All under Heaven
by Djuva
Summary: A weary warrior gets caught in a tangled web of vengeance, justice and a seedy reporter's ambitions. But amidst all the excitement over the trial of the century he of all people knows that there can be no mercy for the man who was once Darth Vader.
1. The Beginning

All under Heaven

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters.

This story is another installment to my Dark Empire Alternate Universe and hopefully the last. What has happened so far: After his resurrection in [Walking the Edge][1] Anakin Skywalker has fought for the Jedi's autonomy and settled the peace between the New Republic and the Empire. Now though, his battles fought and won, he is facing one last challenge: he has to take full responsibility for his crimes in the trial of the millenia.

Chapter 1

Turve Glat was bent over his compad, his eyes practically glued to the screen. He was quite satisfied with his last news report. But something was missing. Sure, covering the peace negotiations between the New Republic and the Empire had been interesting and rewarding, but it would not gain him what he truly desired: the Tahnera Reporter Prize. It was every journalist's dream and he meant to make it come true for him. Somehow. Leaning back in his chair he heaved a tiny sigh and folded his hands over his stomach. He was a bulky human, not to say overweight, but there was a lot of energy to him. 

And once he had caught scent of a story, he would not let go until he had it nailed down on his desk where he could examine it very closely and in great detail. Metaphorically speaking, of course. Maybe he should do a documentary about the Jedi, or even better, the Skywalker family. Interesting, wasn't it, that it suddenly had turned out that Princess Leia Organa was the sister of Luke Skywalker; and the fact that their father had resurfaced after decades of hiding or whatever was in itself worth a story. Yes, he would start with that. And who knew? Maybe there was something more lurking there. 

Suddenly his comm chimed. "Make it quick," he snapped, accepting the call. Gradually his face turned from angry to disbelieving to astounded to delighted. When he broke the connection he was fairly beaming. Pumping a pudgy fist into the air he shouted: "Yes!" and went to work out a plan.

Leia watched her father sleep with a smile on her lips. He had chosen the sofa in the living-room on purpose. Han had been complaining about the children's loud play next door and somehow the three kids respected their grandfather's rest more than their father's authority. And she really admired the subtlety of Anakin's approach. But on the other hand she would much rather have the children show more respect towards Han. It was only fair though that Anakin took care of calming the children, since their agitation was due to his and Daala's unexpected visit on a rather peaceful afternoon. That was just typical of him, Leia mused quietly and her smile deepened. 

A sound from the kitchen made her turn her head. "Don't disturb the sleeping rancor," Daala said from where she stood in the doorway, raising her eyebrows meaningfully, and went over to join Leia at the table. She sat down a tall glass of water and her green eyes twinkled happily. "I wouldn't dare," Leia replied with a smile. The princess had to admit that she really liked the former admiral, much the same as she liked Mara Jade. Both women were red-haired, green-eyed and very temperamental. But each had her own personality. 

Sometimes Leia liked to think that Luke had somehow tamed the former Emperor's Hand and that Daala had done the same with Anakin. But she also knew that a fire was still simmering in those two, ready to break out at any time. Leia liked it immensely that these two women were now a part of her family, just as her children were, her husband and brother. Luke and his students had left Coruscant a few days ago, heading back to Naboo to get their belongings. They would return soon, but until then Leia was on her own. But not alone, she thought with a smile. Well, she had enough to do anyway. 

"Leia!"

Turning around she shot Han a small smile. He gave Daala a strange look and then frowned at Anakin, who had woken to the sound of his voice and regarded him calmly. 

"Any of you saw the news?"

"Should we have?" Leia asked and rose slowly. She had a bad feeling about this. "What happened?"

"Nothing good." Han nodded towards Anakin: "Since everyone believes that you're dead, some of the senators seem to have decided to make the most of it."

"Meaning they have sold their story to the media?" Anakin inquired pensively.

"You bet. It's on Coruscant Daily. That fat reporter -"

"Turve Glat."

"The one. Apparently they went to him."

"Oh my stars," Leia sighed and turned to leave.

"Where are you going?" Han demanded.

"To my office. I expect he'll want to talk to me."

"Don't bother, Leia. He's already here," Anakin announced darkly.

Almost at the same moment the door comm chimed. Leia groaned softly. She walked over to answer the comm reluctantly:

"Yes."

"Madame President, this is Turve Glat," he began breezily and Leia interrupted him smoothly:

"Mister Glat. What can I do for you?"

"Actually I wanted to talk to you about your - family."

"Then I would advise you to make an appointment with my office. Thank you."

Turning away from the door, a deep scowl on her face she propped her fists on her hips angrily.

"Now what?" Han asked finally.

"I have no idea. How about you?" She shot her father a questioning glance. And did not like the look in his icy eyes at all.

"Tell him what he wants to know. Sooner or later people will have to get used to the idea that I am alive."

"You mean it?"

"I always do."

Glat was grinning happily to himself as he walked up to the President's office early the next morning. It was actually pretty astounding that he had gotten an appointment so fast, but given the heated discussions his little report had sparked, the Princess really had no choice. Coruscant was buzzing with rumours about the whereabouts of Anakin Skywalker, better known as Darth Vader. Some claimed that he was alive and that the New Republic government wanted to keep him as some sort of secret weapon, others believed him somewhere in the former Imperial space. And yet others simply thought that he was dead. Personally Turve did not really care if the Sith was alive or not, as long as he got the exclusive rights on the story. 

The door opened as he got closer, admitting him to the room beyond. A fresh-faced young woman smiled at him: "Hello, Mister Glat. I am Alole. The President will see you in a moment." His good mood suddenly gone, the reporter settled down laboriously on one of the comfortable chairs in the lounge . Maybe I should start losing some weight, he thought uneasily, especially in the face of the room's other occupant. He was a tall, lean man with piercing blue eyes and a haggard face. Somehow he seemed familiar. 

"Excuse me, sir," Glat began, leaning towards the stranger. "Do I know you?"

"I doubt it," the other replied, eyes unblinking. He reminded Turve of some sort of predator and he thought it wise not to engage the man in a deeper conversation.

"Mister Glat!" The aide, Alole, waved at him discreetly, her face beaming.

He practically jumped up from his seat, his chest swelling with some pride as he strode past the man towards the now open door to the President's office. To his great surprise the stranger followed him in. 

"Mister Glat, a pleasure," the Princess welcomed him with a smile, motioning for him to take a seat in front of her desk.

"The pleasure is all mine," he answered gallantly, but kept looking at the tall man uneasily. "But, if I may be introduced to your - friend?"

"Nervous?" 

His eyes flickered for a moment, unsure of her comment: "What?"

"He is, Mister Glat, much more than just a friend. Permit me to introduce to you my father, Anakin Skywalker."

Of course. That was why he had seemed so familiar. Glat had studied some of the grainy holo-images a few colleagues had managed to capture of the elusive Jedi when he had first come to Coruscant a year ago. There had, strangely enough, not been any official documents about him. Which was, in the light of the new facts, quite understandable. Rising slowly he gave the tall warlord a short nod, trying hard not to sweat:

"An honor, Lord Vader."

The man did not even flinch. Instead he gave Glat a very thin smile.

"Why don't we get down to business," he said, his grating voice sending cold shivers down the reporter's spine, but Turve managed to keep a calm composure.

"Ah, of course. I - I - just wanted to make it clear that I see it as my duty to the people to uncover things that need to be uncovered. Like the truth, for example."

"The truth," Vader mused, walking over to lean against the desk. "What truth would that be?"

"You are a - how shall I put it? A mass murderer on the leave. The government," he nodded at the Princess, "has been protecting you so far. A scandal, don't you think?"

The Sith laughed: "You are a man to my liking, Mister Glat."

"I am?" This truly came as a surprise.

"Slick, sly and utterly immoral."

"Immoral? Me?" Glat said defensively.

"No righteousness? Nothing about being judged by a criminal? You disappoint me, Mister Glat."

"I do?"

"You see, I am used to people scheming behind my back. Noone tells me to the face that I am - a mass murderer on the leave. A nice way of putting things, by the way. It reflects your profession."

"Is there a point you are getting at?" He could not believe he was actually saying that.

"Courageous too. Do you think there is anyone who would protect you from me?"

"Do I have anything to fear?"

Again a laugh. This time even the Princess smiled. But Turve was not inclined to join their merriment. It had been a serious question, after all. Very serious.

"No. I am - calmer now than I was before. A blessing, don't you think?" 

"I am not sure. Why would it be one?" By now he was grinning at the Dark Lord desperately.

The other turned his head to give his daughter a sharp nod and a smile before he started for the door. On his way out he passed Turve Glat very close indeed, so that his right arm brushed against the reporter's shoulder gently. Turve froze when Anakin Skywalker flashed him a dark smile: "Guess." And then he was gone.

"Mister Glat?"

With a tiny gasp Turve Glat found himself back in the here and now instead of a very private hell.

"What?" he spluttered, his eyes blinking rapidly.

"I think you are here to discuss something with me," the Princess reminded him gently.

"Can I- Can I excuse myself for today?"

"Of course."

"Thank you."

When he had left her office, Leia's face took on a very earnest expression. She had known, of course, that this would become inevitable - they all had. But somehow there had always been the hope that this too was just a crisis to master, something that they could handle easily. Now though she found that the past would always come back to haunt them, no matter what. Even if her father died, something would still linger with them. And for once Leia hated him for having brought this upon his family. Why could he not have stayed dead? Well, it hadn't really been his own decision, she knew. But still, it was unfair. Nevertheless she had backed him in the past, hadn't she? And why? Because she loved him. Because she wanted to have him around, wanted him to be happy. Wanted to forget what he had done to her, her friends, her family. 

And how could she ever forget with him around as a constant reminder of the past, even if he tried to make up for his deeds? Stamping down on her controversial feelings hard, Leia tried to analyze the situation rationally. It was not about what she or any one of them wanted. It would not matter. There was really only one person she could talk to about all this, who would listen carefully and evaluate her words without prejudice. He would make her believe that it wasn't as bad as she thought, that there was no reason to despair, would soothe her as only a parent could. 

And still his eyes would betray the truth. That they had lost the battle even before it had begun. As he had known it would happen from the day he returned to the living. Leia had conferred with her staff about how to proceed and they had all agreed that they could not afford to keep any secrets. But they could do this the civilized way. No shouting, no uncalled for accusations. As if any were needed. Talking to Turve Glat was only the first step. It was something she had learned from her father: if you had the chance, you chose your opponent yourself. This way you knew what you were going to face.

It was the next morning when Glat announced another visit. Leia tried to make him feel comfortable, despite everything. It was politics again and a game she knew to play well. He was very polite, asked her to recount the happenings on Onderon, the Senate's decision and the truce with Anakin Skywalker. And then he asked about the trial.

"Once the public learns of this you will have to decide what to do."

"The Senate will decide. We are a democracy, Mister Glat. Keep that in mind."

"Yes, of course. I didn't mean to imply anything else."

"Good."

"Have there been any talks already?"

"No. Talks will begin this afternoon." Leia glanced at her chronometer. "Actually I must ask you to leave. Unfortunately there is a lot to prepare for the meeting. But the press office will keep you posted on proceedings until the - event."

"Trial."

"Whatever. Good day to you, Mister Glat."

"Thank you, Madam. Good-bye."

Leaving the government section of the Imperial Palace behind Turve felt elated. This was going very well and the Princess seemed cooperative enough. On a spur of the moment decision he decided to celebrate his small victory in one of the tap-cafés circling the inner yard of the public area. He sat down in the sun, all smiles, until a shadow blocked out the light. He started a bit at the unexpected sight of the man looming over him, and after his surprise visitor had taken a seat he didn't feel any better. 

"What can I do for you?" he began tentatively, fumbling for the recorder he had tucked into his pouch. The stranger gave him a slow smile. His long, dark hair was streaked with gray and hung over his left shoulder in a pony-tail. Dark brows were shadowing brilliant blue eyes and his conservative-cut clothes did nothing to hide his muscular form. 

"Are you a friend of the family?" Turve tried again. The stranger blinked at him: 

"Family? What family?"

"The Skywalkers."

The other frowned deeply: "A friend? No, I wouldn't say so."

"Then why are you here?"

"I heard that you are looking for a story."

"And you are offering one? No thanks, I think I have already found what I need."

"The trial of Darth Vader. Of course." The man gave a quiet chuckle. "Old stuff, that. Not very interesting. "

"Not interesting? Sir, I must assume that you have no clue about the media business. Else you would realize that this will be the story of the century!"

"Sure, sure. How do you think it will end? He will die, that simple. That's hardly news."

"It's not the outcome of the trial, but the proceedings that interest the public. And so far I have been under the impression that the Dark Lord is full of surprises."

"Not anymore. Believe me, if he were, he would rule the New Republic himself, not his daughter."

"But that is the interesting thing about it. His personality."

"He is unpredictable, I grant you that. But he would not be here if he hadn't given up."

"Given up what?"

"Everything really. The Empire, the Republic. And by agreeing to the trial he has given up his family too."

"Harsh words. I take it you know him well?"

"I used to."

"And what story have you got to sell?"

Leaning forward abruptly, the stranger caught Turve's eyes in his and for a second the reporter again felt like a prey about to be devoured by some predator in human disguise.

"Come with me and I will show you."

"Show me what? Look, I am not just going to drop this story in exchange for a vague promise of something more. There simply cannot be anything better!"

"You are a coward, Mister Glat."

"Maybe. But I survive."

"Very well. It is your decision, of course." The stranger rose elegantly, giving Turve a short nod. "Good luck to you."

"Yeah, sure," Turve muttered, watching the other's retreating back. Creepy guy, that. And what if there was some merit to what he had told him? No, there could not be anything that could rival this one story. It would gain him the Tahnera Reporter Prize for sure. Oh really? For what? Everyone will be there, and everyone will try to make the best of it. You may have tipped it off, but now that it's public knowledge your part in this will be forgotten faster than you can blink your eyes. Turve sighed deeply. Why hadn't he thought of that beforehand? Too late to call back that nameless stranger. "Sithspawn!" 

he cursed, heart-felt and heaved his bulk from his chair. Ambling out of the café he tried to think about how he could still make this work in his favor. 

Luke Skywalker, Jedi Master, was overseeing the loading of the ship that would take them back to Coruscant, but his thoughts were drawn to other things. Now that Leia was president they would have to find a new liaison between the Jedi and the government and he had asked Tionne already if she was willing to do the job. She had been uncertain at the beginning, but he was sure that she would overcome her shyness fast. All in all he was quite satisfied with his first class. They had mastered their past trials perfectly. Maybe now was the time to keep a look-out for new students. 

"Are you alright?" Mara slipped an arm around his waist, leaning against him gently. 

"Why do you ask?" She turned to look at him, her green eyes twinkling: 

"You were smiling."

"And that is such a rare occasion that you had to ask if I was feeling well?"

"There hasn't been a lot lately that has made you happy."

"Not true. You are making me happy."

"Oh? We'll see about that."

The voyage to Coruscant was almost boring, apart from the lessons he gave the students now and then. But mostly they were practicing with each other and Kam was training Kyp and Gantoris' swordplay. Still, Luke could not shed the feeling that something was wrong. They had missed something important, but he could not pinpoint it. 

"Luke, there is something bothering you, I just know," Mara insisted, but he could give her no answer. And when they had finally reached the capital, the Jedi Master wanted to kick himself for failing to see the obvious. The news channels were full of wild rumors, or maybe they were even true. Apparently there was an official announcement to be expected any minute now and Luke watched Mara's face sour when he told her what exactly that announcement was to be about.

"He must have seen that coming," she said at last and he nodded.

"Probably. Or maybe he hasn't. I mean, he thought he was dying anyway."

"But he didn't die."

"Yes."

"Luke," she draped her arms around his neck, drawing him close as he tried to avoid her intense gaze. "We will survive this too."

He only nodded, not caring to voice what both were thinking. They might live through this, but Anakin Skywalker most surely wouldn't.

Leia watched her father's impassive face as he was facing the Senate again. They had been discussing for hours and it had become obvious early on that the majority would vote in favor of the trial. Not that Anakin had any way to object. As the senator of Kasshyyk had proclaimed very pointedly, the former Dark Lord had to stick to the rules once he had submitted to them. And he had done that, not only by agreeing to the Truce of Onderon. Additionally the Senate wanted to prevent the government from suffering a major loss of trust by the people and they thought they could achieve this only if they admitted their error in protecting Darth Vader from judgement so far. Leia knew what this meant: everyone who had signed the Truce would have to recline from their posts eventually, including herself. 

In a way she regretted this, because she had been looking forward to making her vision of peace come true, to being able to really achieve something as Head of State. But on the other hand it was the only step she could take if she wanted to be true to herself. In that regard she was not like her father, who would go on despite the odds, despite what everyone thought, if only he believed that what he was doing was the right thing. For a moment she felt like a coward. But then she saw him turn his head to give her the tiniest of reassuring smiles. She almost cried then, but just almost. Clearing her throat Leia rose gracefully. "Your votes, please," she said, astounded at how calm her voice sounded. 

Keeping a straight face Anakin did his best to suppress a laconic smile. Just as he had expected. The first vote came from the senator of Bothawui and Anakin would have been greatly concerned if Borsk Fey'lya would not have voted in favor of the trial. Kasshyyk was next, also not unexpected, then Mon Calamari, Ryloth and a whole string of other worlds, all voting in favor. When the first vote against the trial came in Leia was very quick to silence the protesting voices trying to shout down the representative from Munnilist, a former Imperial world. The rest of the votes were announced against a sullen silence and as the monotonous ceremony dragged on, Anakin could see the hope dwindle in his daughter's eyes. In the end though none of them were surprised by the outcome. All of the former Imperial worlds had voted against the trial, and most of the New Republic worlds in favour, with the exception of Bakura. "Very well," the President began, her voice firm. "The Senate will issue an official announcement within the hour. This meeting is closed."

She met her father twenty minutes later as the representatives were slowly filing out of the giant chamber and both could feel the curious glances some gave them, but only one was so bold to approach them. Anakin turned toward a triumphantly smiling Fey'lya with an exasperated sigh.

"Did I not tell you that you would pay in the end?" the Bothan crowed gleefully.

"Indeed you did."

"You lose, Lord Vader, either way. Remember? You told me the same not so long ago."

"I remember. Congratulations on your victory, Senator," Anakin said with a mirthless smile and gave the other a sharp nod before he made his way out of the chamber, Leia right behind.

"Father, I ... What are you going to do?"

He almost winced at her hopeful tone. Why did everyone think that he could fix simply everything?He sighed deeply before answering:

"The question is, what can I do? You know as well as I do that there is no way I can deny what I did."

"The people know what you have done for them ever since. The votes prove it."

"All they prove is that it is still a long way towards peace."

She fell silent at that. And both knew that there was nothing else to say.

Luke was waiting in the President's Residence with Han and Chewie, keeping the children company. It was a somber assembly that greeted Leia that evening and her mouth hardened almost immediately in dire anticipation.

"Where is Father?" Luke asked, slightly bewildered.

"Home with Daala, where else?"

"Indeed. The announcement was - interesting."

"Wasn't it though? It was all I could do to stop them from putting the word 'justice' anywhere in there."

"I see. So, what is the plan?"

"There is no plan, Luke," she snapped irritably. "There is nothing we can do, any of us. And that is that."

"Hey, hon', take it easy," Han tried. "It's not as if he hasn't deserved what is coming at him."

"I know that, but it doesn't make things easier."

She let him wrap his arms around her, hugging her close: "It'll be alright."

"I doubt it. They want to start this as soon as possible. I had five lawyer offices calling in today, can you imagine that? They are like vultures that way, especially when they sense blood."

"Wait, what were they calling in for? Do they think they can win?"

"Are you kidding me? Everyone knows how this will end!" 

"Then who... Don't tell me," Luke spread his arms in mock surprise. "He wants to defend himself, am I right?"

"No, he does not. A true miracle. He says he's got a lawyer."

"Really? Who is it?"

Daala had her legs crossed and sat back in her chair as she regarded Anakin coolly. He was pacing the floor, apparently deep in thought and she had the distinct feeling that he had forgotten about her completely. 

"Anakin."

He stopped, startled: "What?"

She heaved a big sigh, pressing her hands against her temples in dismay: "Anakin, stop worrying. There is nothing you can do. Or is there?"

"If you can't think of anything..."

"I find it hard to believe that you of all people do not know what to do."

"The problem, Daala, is that I know exactly what I have to do."

"And what would that be?"

"There are a few things theoretically, I could do, you know? I could manipulate the people supporting me, I could go into hiding or take over the government, and don't think I could not succeed in that."

"I don't doubt it. But? There has to be one, else you would have told me straight away."

"But I can't do it. Daala, I made a promise and I broke it."

"You did that before."

"True, but then I was in another position. I did not care about it."

"Now you do?" She barked a sharp laugh. "Anakin, I know you. There is nothing that could stop you if you think that something must be done."

"If I go now, Daala, do you know what I would leave behind? Chaos, diversion."

"Why do you always have to take care of everything?"

"Because it is my duty."

She shook her head slowly, disbelieving. But this did not really come as a surprise. Despite his ruthlessness Anakin held honor and honesty above everything else. If he broke his word he had his reasons. And if he chose to keep it he had those too. But why now? She bit her lower lips furiously, trying to remain calm. 

"Why? Anakin, you have risked your life, your family even, over and over again for these people and now that they want to see you pay you willingly agree to submit to their judgement?"

"You know who I am, who I was. The only way to redeem myself in the eyes of the people is to justify my deeds."

Daala gave him a long, hard glance. "Anakin," she began quietly. "You cannot justify what you did."

"Exactly. But I can show them that I have changed and that I recognize that what I did was wrong."

"They will kill you, Anakin."

"I know."

The first hearing took place away from prying eyes and for once Anakin was grateful for that. There was too much public attention already as it was. The Court representative and the state attorney were watching him with a look that said more than any legal document would: in their eyes he was as guilty as anyone could be. And it was the truth. He was almost startled when Gita Deron passed him briskly, determination radiating off her like steam off a cooling ship. He smiled at the lawyer's back as she approached the Court, her dark hair flying behind her in angry wisps.

"The defense pleads guilty on all charges."

"Is the defense aware of the list of charges?" 

"Examined with great care, Your Honor, and if I may, there are some charges missing."

That brought some amused smiles and even more startled looks. 

"Very well. The trial-"

"Excuse me. But since when is there a trial on a guilty plea?"

"These are special circumstances."

"Special circumstances?" she asked, and he could see her raise her hand to straighten her glasses.

"The public has a right to know."

"If the defense may ask: what is this trial supposed to be about? Justice? Or is it to be an opportunity for the media conglomerates to earn more money." Oh, she was good. And fair.

"The Court asks the defense to keep to the subject."

"Very well. Before we continue I am sorry having to declare that the judge you have selected is partial."

"What?"

"The defense has uncovered a personal connection between the judge and one of the defendant's supposed victims, Lorth Needa. They were cousins. Therefore I ask the Court to appoint another judge."

"We will investigate this claim. For today this session is adjourned."

She turned around and gave the defendant a grim smile, waiting for him to rise and join her. Anakin shook his head slowly and sighed: 

"We have a lot to do, it seems." 

"You bet, "Gita said, all business again, and swept past him, not waiting to see if he was following at all. It was, in a way, quite refreshing that she only saw a client in him and nothing else. But Anakin knew very well that she was well aware of the fact that they could not win this.

Finally seated together in her office Anakin watched her take her place at the datapad, then turn towards him. She spread her hands in a soothing gesture and smiled again: 

"Now, is there anything you can tell me that we can use in your favor?"

"Are you kidding me?"

"Not at all. You see, facts can be interpreted either way, positive or negative. We know that you won't get away with all of it, but we may be able to reduce the sentence."

"Reduce to what? A life sentence instead of death?"

"What is so bad about that?"

Anakin grimaced painfully: "Listen, I have been a prisoner in all but name for nearly all my life. I have died twice. Does that count for nothing?"

She laughed at that: "Lord Skywalker, this is not about you, it is about what you did. Whatever we say or claim, all they will see is Darth Vader. They'll say, 'Yes, he did die, but that was no proper conviction, it was rather accidental. We have to do this the right way.' Meaning that they want to see you squirm."

"But I would have thought that with a guilty plea..."

"I thought the same, but apparently they want to play differently. And we will too. Now, I ask you again, is there anything I should know?"

"There is one thing."

"Yes?"

"Whatever happens, I will do what is necessary."

"As will I."

Leia was curled up on the sofa, eyes fixed on the holoscreen, and Han by her side. They had sent the children to bed early, both needing time together and especially Leia needed some reassurance. The news had been filled with comments on the impending trial and the Princess was getting the feeling that in the light of this event every other news would be banished into the background. It should not be that way, she knew, but there was nothing she could do either. She could hardly order the media what to broadcast on their channels, could she? The current program was a recording of the public discussion she had had to moderate earlier that day and right now all the cameras were on Borsk Fey'lya who had a hard time hiding his glee. 

He explained in great detail that he had never sanctioned the Truce of Onderon, and that he didn't sign it either, out of protest, which was simply untrue. He had not even been on Onderon, as General Rieekan was quick to point out with a sour smile on his aged face. Old rivalries were as obvious in the discussion as the rift between ex-Imperial and New Republic politicians. Although Leia found it very surprising that former High Admiral Palleon hardly said one word throughout the entire session. After the recording was finished two commentators encouraged the viewers to call in. Most did not even make a reference to the previous discussion but simply stated their opinion concerning the trial. When the umpteenth condemnation and death threat to Darth Vader had come in, Han shot Leia a mischievous smile:

"Wanna tell them something?"

"Actually," she said, turning around to face him, "I would like to tell them to just grow up and get a life. But it's not that easy, is it?"

"No, I guess not."

"The first court session is tomorrow. They've called in Rieekan, Dodonna and myself to testify for the Provisory Council on Onderon."

"And?"

"I don't know yet. But we can only tell them the truth."

"Have they found a judge yet?"

"Yes, actually. A Bith. Her name is Firek Nab. She's a doctor."

"A doctor? Of what?"

"I don't know and frankly I don't care. Father agreed and since his lawyer has rejected three judges previously, I guess the Court was pretty grateful that she showed up."

"She's quite a fighter, isn't she?"

"Who, Deron? Guess so."

"Where did he find her anyway?"

"She used to defend alleged slave traders."

"What?"

"Father had a great interest in seeing them convicted and she did her job anyway, even though she knew his stance on that."

"I see."

The next day Anakin strode into the courtroom a bit more hesitantly than he had planned to do, but the flashlights and the murmuring of the news-droids and journalists irritated him. He could almost feel the mechanical eyes of the cameras on him, scrutinizing his every move. It was uncomfortable, to say the least. As was the setting itself. Since this trial was open to the public, it had been decided to use the Senate Chamber to accommodate all the onlookers and reporters who were thronged along the aisles, giving the whole room a slightly oppressive air. It was a long way down into the small circle facing what was usually the President's and the High Council's seat. Taking his place in what passed as the defendant's stand, Anakin gave the judge a hard glance. Her alien face and huge black eyes were unreadable, but he could sense her resolve and determination anyway. Apparently she was as unused to this publicity as he was and had vowed to see this through anyway. 

The state attorney was a Twi'lek and his head tails were twitching nervously upon seeing Anakin. Or maybe it was because of Gita, who immediately strode toward Judge Nab as if she meant to conquer the courtroom. The Bith looked a bit irritated, but after a short discussion with the lawyer and the attorney Anakin could feel her calm down again. Nab nodded at Gita, who turned toward Anakin with a triumphant smile. 

"What did you do?" he whispered when she joined him at last.

"I just convinced her that the charges should be treated separately and that we will hear all evidence before making our pledge."

"What? This will take forever!"

"Good. Then we have more time to mount our defense."

"You meant to say something else."

"Yes, but I didn't say it, did I? After all, we both know that we are just stalling for time here."

"Thank you for reminding me," Anakin replied sarcastically and folded his arms in front of his chest until Gita told him that this was too defiant a gesture to take as defendant in such a trial.

The first to testify-Leia-was watching Gita with a keen eye. But it was not their turn yet. Raising her head slowly, Judge Nab turned her orbs on the defendant:

"It seems that there are a few legal issues to clarify first. Please, for the Court, state your name and age."

"I am Anakin Skywalker, aged 52."

"Is it true, that you died seven years previous aboard the second Death Star during the battle of Endor?"

"Yes, that is true."

"And yet you are here. Do you take full responsibility for your previous life with all consequences?" 

Leia saw Anakin smile and, anticipating his answer, buried her head in her hands in quiet exasperation. 

"What will happen if I do not?"

"Nothing. The trial would still take place."

"Your Honor, on what grounds?" Gita's sharp voice rang clear throughout the chamber.

"On the grounds that Anakin Skywalker is still accountable for the charges he is accused of in his current life, regardless of what has gone before."

The Princess saw Gita bend towards Anakin and for a while they conversed quietly. Finally he turned to face the judge again:

"I take full responsibility."

"Thank you. Very well. The defense has filed the claim that the defendant is not liable to be judged by New Republic law. The claim takes reference to the Truce of Onderon, the document of which has been submitted to the Court. The defense claims that the Provisory Council was in no position to propose such a truce at all. Additionally there has been the claim that the defendant is no citizen of the New Republic. That claim I can reject right now, since Anakin Skywalker was an Imperial citizen and the Empire is now part of the New Republic. Even though this bond was severed through his death he has just now accepted full responsibility for all crimes committed beforehand. Additionally, war crimes are treated without regard of citizenship. Coming back to the first claim I would like to give the state attorney a chance to answer. Please, Mister Ur'tek."

"Thank you, Your Honor." Straightening abruptly, the Twi'lek made and expansive gesture he meant to be grand, but it came off rather uncertain. "The defense claims that the Truce of Onderon is actually illegal, and yet it was a truce made in a time without law. The truce was signed by all parties, with the consent of all parties. Therefore I see no reason to continue this discussion. "

Taking her cue Gita rose and gave him a thin smile: "If I may, the defense will prove that 

the Provisory Council had no choice in the matter and therefore was forced to sign the truce. In that case it would be obsolete. I call my first witness, Princess Leia Organa Solo."

Suppressing a sigh Leia walked forward, very aware of the hushed comments of the reporters and news droids. She tried in vain to shut out the half-whispered words, but found she could not. And what she heard was not to her liking at all. Finally she found herself in the witness stand, facing Gita. The tall lawyer gave her a reassuring nod, straightened her glasses and absent-mindedly wiped a few stray strands of hair from her face.

"Your Highness, the document of the truce has been subjected to the Court and there is no need to repeat the happenings that lead to the signing of said truce. But tell me this, did you have a choice when you signed the document?"

Leia did not even hesitate. "No," she answered and was surprised at how calm her voice sounded.

"No," Gita repeated thoughtfully. "Could you specify the reasons for that?"

"I was... biased."

"Biased. Why?"

"There were different reasons: first and foremost I could not deny my support to the man who had just saved my children from certain death and who had killed the reborn Emperor."

"First and foremost," the lawyer mused aloud. "You are sure that it was not because that man is your father?"

"That was the second reason, yes."

"Any others?"

"No. Not that I can think of right now."

"Thank you." 

"Mister Ur'tek," Judge Nab said pleasantly, "do you have any questions for the witness?"

"Just this one: if the defendant had not saved your children, would you still have supported him?"

Leia felt all color drain from her face as her eyes sought her father's gaze. He was looking at her calmly and she could feel his silent encouragement to speak her heart. 

"No, I would not have supported him," she answered at last.

"Thank you. That would be all."

"Very well. You may go, Princess."

Leia stumbled from the stand, knowing how disturbed she must look. But it was true. And she was asking herself why Gita had not objected, claiming that this was a statement based on assumption, or anything. Anything that would not make Anakin look like a heartless monster.

"That went rather well, didn't it," Gita commented drily out of the corner of her mouth. But before Anakin could reply she had already called her next witness. General Rieekan was all calm composure and it seemed that there was nothing that could disturb him. 

"General, let me ask you a question: what did you think when you first became aware that Darth Vader was alive?"

"I felt like cursing." There were a few laughs from the gallery and Gita gave the witness a cold smile.

"Really. And why?"

"Because I thought that if anything had deserved to die in that battle it was him."

"I see. And yet you signed the Truce of Onderon. I wonder why?"

The general snorted contemptuously: "We hardly were given a choice."

"Ah? In what way?"

"Lord Vader - pardon - Lord Skywalker made it very clear that he would not allow us to take any other action. His actual words, as I recall, were 'Don't turn down my offer of peace. Palpatine has paid the price for his foolishness and so has his precious dark center, Byss, which is space dust now, just like Alderaan'."

"A clear threat. Serious, in your eyes?"

"Very serious. Yes."

"And yet the defendant also reportedly claimed that he would condescend to much only to be with his children. Is that true?"

"Yes."

"So you were given a choice."

"In both cases we would not have been able to treat him the way he deserved it in our eyes."

"What did he deserve?"

"He deserved to die."

"Thank you. I have no more questions."

"Mister Ur'tek?"

"I have no questions. But if I may, I can see where this is leading, so I would like to ask the defense to not call the next witness."

"You accept the claim?"

"No. But I would like to call in a witness of my own."

"This is somewhat unusual. But if the defense agrees?"

Gita gave the Twi'lek a hard glance: "Agreed," she said finally and sat down. 

"Thank you. I call as witness Anakin Skywalker."

There were a few surprised shouts from the audience, but Anakin had expected this. He rose slowly and as he neared the witness stand he grew even more uncomfortable.

"Lord Skywalker, you know that you are under oath to speak the truth?"

"Yes. Of course."

"Good. Just one question: was your threat meant to be serious?"

"Not entirely."

"So you gave the Provisory Council a choice?"

"Implicitly, yes."

"But they did not take that offer."

"I am not sure if they were aware of it at all."

"An assumption. I must ask the Court to give no heed to this comment."

"Granted."

"Why do you think they did not take it?"

"It was... easier to accept the explicit threat than stand up against it."

"Objection!" Gita called out: "Another assumption."

"Mister Ur'tek?"

"Your pardon, Your Honor, but General Rieekan just claimed that he was well aware of the choice, but that he chose not to take it seriously."

Anakin saw Gita freeze. 

"The objection is rejected. Please continue."

"So, Lord Skywalker, your threat was not meant seriously, but you were well aware that your opponents would take it in the opposite way. True or false?"

"True."

"Another question: what choices did you yourself have?"

"The very basic ones, " Anakin bared his teeth in an almost-smile. "Life or death."

"Thank you."

Judge Nab gave him a short nod and waited until Anakin had taken his seat again before pronouncing her answer to Gita's claim:

"The defense's claim is rejected. The Truce of Onderon is recognized by the Court as a legal document signed by equal parties. Next issue, please."

"The first charge," the Twi'lek piped up. "Lord Skywalker broke the Truce by rejoining the Empire a year ago. The document clearly condemns this as a hostile act."

"The claim is recognized. Has the defense anything to say on the matter?"

Gita shook her head slowly. "No," she answered glumly. "The defense pleads guilty on this charge."

"Thank you. Next issue."

"The destruction of Byss."

This evening's public discussion were, hardly surprising to anyone, dealing solely with the guilty plea on three charges: the Truce, the destruction of Byss and coercion of legal forces, when Anakin had forced then president Fey'lya to set him free again. Those had been her major points in his defense, because they would have shown plainly that those actions had benefitted the people, not him or the Empire. But no, he had refused and she could not force him to plead not guilty. It did, quite frankly, not look good and Gita had told her client the same repeatedly. Was he going to plead guilty on all charges she had asked him sarcastically. And he had only nodded. 

"Listen, if we can prove that you had no choice but to obey orders -."

"I had a choice," he interrupted her, the calm gaze in his cool blue eyes more infuriating even than the headache nagging at her resolve.

"What do you mean?" They had taken shelter in her office again, but Gita knew that this could not last. 

"I could always chose to die."

"That hardly qualifies as a choice, my dear. No, we have to find another solution."

"There is none."

"Listen, this is not justice, this is the law. We could have pleaded not guilty on the Byss charge, you know? You were drugged, after all. For heaven's sake, you had been tortured for over six years!"

"That is no excuse."

"Of course it is!"

When he put his face very close to hers, forcing her to look into his icy eyes Gita for once had to admit that he scared her, despite everything. When he had first come to her she had been flattered that he confided in her abilities, but she had not spent a second thought on what it would mean to work with him. Anakin Skywalker did not let others dictate his actions and he only reluctantly had agreed to give his own defense in her hands, she knew. On the other hand he was no fool either. He knew very well when he was being led and apparently he did not like that at all. His voice was a low hiss when he finally spoke:

"You do not understand, Gita. I knew what I was doing. I always do."

She swallowed hard, trying to grasp the magnitude of this statement and failed miserably:

"But that is not the way -."

"It is mine."

Gita raisd her hands to massage her aching temples: 

"Let me see. You are telling me that you always are in control of yourself, right? Do you know what they say about people like that?"

"Are you proposing to declare me insane?"

"If you don't cease this foolishness I may. Look, if you really wanted to die you would not be here with me. So tell me, what is it you really want?"

His face fell and he hesitated a bit before answering: 

"Redemption, I guess. I want a normal life, with my family. I want to do what I have to without interference. But I cannot if I do not manage to redeem myself in the eyes of the public."

"You will never reach that goal if you plead guilty. See, if you do that they only believe their prejudices are justified. I know you want to take responsibility, and that is very laudable and everything, but that will not save your life."

"And what will?"

"Frankly, I have no idea."

TBC

   [1]: http://www.fanfiction.net/index.fic?action=story-read&storyid=22600



	2. The Trial

All under Heaven

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters.

Chapter 2

Anakin lay awake all night, pondering his options. Not that he had many. If he continued pleading guilty on all charges, he would die, but on the other hand he could convince those who supported him that he had deserved that fate after all. And that would forestall any conflict a death sentence might otherwise cause. If he changed his tactics, pleading not guilty on those charges he thought had been justified actions on his part, he may be able to redeem himself in the eyes of some, but Gita had made it very clear that the majority would not care. But the majority did not judge him, Firek Nab did. And he was certain that he would still die. On the other hand he did not want to rekindle the conflict now that he had fought so hard to achieve peace with the Empire. And the polls that evening had shown plainly that this trial was polarizing the New Republic along the old borders. It was infuriating, really, that he had not foreseen this. He should never have come back. Never. 

"Anakin?" Daala mumbled sleepily and wrapped an arm around his torso. "You need some rest, you know?"

"I can sleep when I'm dead," he answered harshly and regretted his words almost immediately when he felt her stiffen against his back. She took her hand away again and for a while all he could hear was her steady breathing.

"Don't tell me you are giving up."

"How could I? There is still so much to do."

"I already told you that you can't do everything. Your son can handle this easily. And as far as I recall you yourself told him to let go and make his own choices."

"Yes, I did. True."

"Anakin."

"Hm?"

"Tell me that you will not leave me again."

"I will always be with you, Daala, wherever I go."

"Not what I wanted to hear," she huffed indignantly and bit his shoulder hard. "Why can't you just run? Why can't you be a coward for once?"

"Daala, you must understand that—"

"I understand, believe me. But I am not prepared to put up with your sacrifices."

"What do you mean?"

"Forget it. I did not mean it that way."

But the lie burned in his mind for the rest of the night as they kept silent, both pretending very hard that they were asleep. Daala could not know that what she had told him there had so reminded him of how he and Amidala had grown apart from each other, their duties leaving them less and less time together. But this was worse, because Ami had known what was expected of him and had accepted that. Daala did not. And that was only because she too had an image of him that belied his true self. She thought that he was a warrior and his stance on the trial in her eyes had to seem the most alien thing he could do at all. In a way she had always seen him as the stronger part of their relationship, someone who never gave up, regardless of the odds. 

But he was older now, wiser, and his latest experience with death had taught him that he could not simply throw himself away. It was as if the Force had given him a sign, telling him that there was more to remorse than trying to righten the wrong. In a way he had no right to be alive at all. And yet he wanted to live badly. Then what if he ran away? Would he really betray those who loved him? Would they not be happy to see him alive? Would he not have a chance to go on fighting, to oppose evil where he found it? And wasn't he just trying to run from the truth? It had all seemed so clear back on Byss, so easy. But it wasn't. He knew that his children understood, and Leia had proven her insight by testifying against him. Of course, that had been Gita's plan all along, to show that Leia had had no choice in the matter of the Truce, but it had also served to show that the Princess had not forgiven her father at that point. 

He was not even sure if she had by now. And still, he knew that Leia loved him, almost as much as he loved her and her brother, as much as he loved Daala. What a mess. And it was all his fault. 

"Daala," he whispered, turning around to lie on his back.

After a while he felt her hand in his, their fingers intertwining gently at first, but then her grip became tighter, more a demand than a caress. For a second he considered taking his hand away again. And then he asked himself why that thought had ever crossed his mind. He loved her too, after all. Or did he? With a low groan Anakin sat bolt upright, trying to shed the confusion that held his mind prisoner. Tomorrow he would have to leave her, and he was not sure if they could ever be together like this again. Daala's face was a pale oval of hurt as she looked up at him, her mouth drawn in a thin line, her green eyes flashing. Anakin smiled at her, then reached out to trace his index finger along her nose, tapping the soft tip playfully. Her expression did not change. She knew him too well for that. With a tiny sigh he rose unsteadily, shaking his head. There was so much he wanted to tell her, but words could not even come close to expressing what he felt. 

"Anakin, where are you going?"

"Out."

"Now?"

He hesitated before answering. How could he explain to her that it hurt too much staying here with her in the certain knowledge that it may well be the last time? He was afraid to lose her, truly afraid, and as always, when dealing with something he could not control, like his emotions, the only options he gave himself were attack or retreat. Since attack would only result in defeat here, he would leave. 

"I ... need some time alone."

It sounded false even in his ears and the rustle of bedcloth behind him, paired with Daala's icy silence and the anger and hurt he sensed from her, struck him like a hammerblow, making him flinch. What a fool he was. Her naked feet did not make any sound on the soft carpet, but he could feel her coming closer. When she walked around to stand in front of him Anakin gave her a tiny smile. As if that would ease any of her pain. 

"You want to protect me, am I right?" He nodded slowly. "Well, then let me tell you that I do not care for any protection if you are not honest with me. Why are you leaving?"

As she stood there, all outrage and haughty pride, he could barely keep himself from wrapping her in his arms, pulling her close, feeling her body against his skin. Her presence alone made him shiver, filling his mind with happiness and desire. Making him weak, distracting him. There was nothing he could afford less at this time. Anakin knew that his children could take care of themselves, and that they loved him. But they did not need him, not the way he needed Daala. And now, faced again with a choice between life and death, he found that if he could not sever those bonds that held his heart chained to hers, he would do something unreasonable. The last time settling the peace with the Empire had been the most important of his goals and he had been willing to die for it, to leave her behind. But this time, there was only Daala. Nothing else. Heaving a deep sigh he lay his hands on her shoulders gently and bent forward to kiss her forehead. She closed her eyes, leaning against him slowly.

"If I do not leave, my love, this trial will be the least of our worries."

The man was no more than a shadow against the backdrop of the city lights as he stood on the balcony of the apartment building where he had found shelter. Shelter—a word that he had had no use for ever since his early youth. But now it was all he had, all he desired. Shuddering with the memory of the past he gripped the metal railing with both hands, until his knuckles were as white as bone. His mouth was one hard, grim line and his blue eyes met the cold lights with a fire of their own. It was a defiant flame that burned in that icy sea, one that had been almost extinguished in his battle for survival over the previous years. But he had not perished, oh no. He was free again and he was back home. Coruscant. It had been seven years ago that he had last been to the capital and he was astounded at how little had changed. Well, some things had, or rather, some people. And on the other hand some things never changed. 

Walking back into the small, crowded room he had come to call home for lack of any other suitable word he dropped on the dirty mattress, his eyes fixed on the holoscreen tiredly. Another discussion on the trial. He almost had had enough of them and the way they made his blood boil with impotent fury. There had been times when he had not felt this helpless, times when he had been the cockiest and most unconcerned assassin around. He had had an employer who had grudgingly respected his skills, a job that had appealed to him and the opportunity to repay a debt to a people that had helped him out when he had really needed it. He had not been a bad man at heart, just a careless, carefree gambler. But not anymore.

"There is a way." 

He almost flinched at the sudden sound of that hated voice. Closing his eyes he faced the being that dwelt inside his head, his lips drawn back in a silent snarl.

"What way?" he asked harshly.

The being's flat face was snowy white, glistening like the skin of some nocturnal larvae. Its eyes were without life as it regarded him steadily, standing tall against the background of the desert mountains. He looked into those blind blue eyes, rimmed by pink sores that were puffed up, as if it had been crying for an eternity. And it had, the man knew. He had heard its sobs in his dreams each and every night for seven years. 

"Talk to him."

"He has given himself up. Can't you see that?"

"He is a warrior. He will not give up, just as you won't."

"I cannot approach him. Did you not listen? They are transferring him into a prison, now that he has pleaded guilty to the first charges."

"And that is frightening you?"

He closed his eyes again, trying to shut out the memory. To no avail. 

"Yes," he whispered.

The next day Turve Glat was slinking around the prison complex, but there was no way he was going to see the defendant by any legal means. And Skywalker's daughter refused to see him too. Great, just great. Everyone was getting information except for him. It was just not fair! He had uncovered this, he was the one who had made this happen! Yeah, and did you think they would thank you for it? Growling under his breath he turned around to leave again when he saw Gita Deron walk into the hallway. She stopped short upon seeing him, her face creasing into a frown. "Mister Glat," she said curtly, pushing past him on her way to her client. He ran after her, angry. 

"Wait! Wait," he huffed when she had finally stopped to face him. He really should start losing some pounds. "I want to see him." 

She arched her eyebrows coolly: "Really? Fancy that. Is that all?" 

Before she could turn away again he slipped past her, blocking the way. "Why not? Is someone else in there with him?"

Gita Deron shook her head grimly: "You don't get it, do you? The trial is open to the public and the President's press office keeps the media posted. Apart from that, I fear, you will have to resort to speculation."

"This is important."

"What is?"

"I can tell only him," he insisted and she laughed at that.

"Mister Glat, I admire your inventiveness, but there is nothing you can do."

And then she really was going. Turve was left behind, looking like a fool. No, he was a fool. "Damn!" he cursed whole-heartedly. There had to be a way, there simply had to be another way.

Gita walked into the high security area of the complex, clearing three checks before a guard led her to the section the New Republic had reserved for the Dark Lord. The government had gone to quite an impressive effort to make this prison as secure as possible. But Gita had no doubt that Anakin would have no problem whatsoever to leave if he chose to. The warden took her into his custody with a small smile.

"He has some visitors," he told her pleasantly and she nodded.

"I know. How long have they been here?"

"A few hours. They had to interrupt the visit, see?"

"What for?" Gita frowned at the man, uncertain. Was there something they had not told her? Apparently so. "What? Spit it out, come on!"

He backed away, his smile deepening: "Nothing bad, don't worry."

"Can I see him now?" Her voice had turned very cold indeed.

"Of course."

The twins turned tired eyes on her as she entered the visitor room, a dull, windowless chamber with only one entrance. And that one was guarded by four soldiers, two on each side of the door. "Master Skywalker, Madam President." Gita nodded at them and then her eyes sought Anakin's gaze. He was smiling faintly. She crossed her arms in front of her chest.

"What was that about some interruption of the visit?"

"Nothing. It was nothing," he was quick to appease her.

"A transmitter," Luke said calmly, ignoring his father's frown.

"What transmitter?"

"A transplant, to keep an eye on him," Leia added.

"I suppose I should have seen something like that coming," Gita conceded before taking a seat. "Are you quite comfortable apart from that?"

"Really, you should not worry, all of you," Skywalker said again, standing slowly. 

When one of the guards flinched Gita knew that he had not only been talking to her and his children. He was eyeing them coolly, as if he expected an attack at any moment.

"This is not so bad, actually. There is nothing to distract me here. It is quiet and I can calm down a bit."

Luke suppressed a small laugh: "Father, you are always keeping busy. I can hear your thoughts ticking away in that thick skull of yours, as restless as ever. But if you say that you are comfortable..."

"I am," Anakin told them firmly. And that was it.

Gita regarded him for a long time as neither of them spoke for a while. Finally she heaved a tiny sigh: "Please, if we could discuss the trial?"

The twins took the cue and Leia went forward to hug her father tightly. "Daala will come by later," she murmured.

"Sure. Thank you. Give my regards to Han and the kids."

"Of course."

"Father," Luke said, blinking deep blue eyes. "Any help you need..."

"I know. Thank you, Luke."

Once they had excused themselves Gita threw a hard glance at the remaining two guards.

"They don't trust you."

"I don't trust them either," he replied coolly, giving the guards a tight smile. 

"Oh, good."

"Leia asked me why they could bring up the Byss charge at all. She still does see the world in black and white."

"Frustrating, isn't it? What did you answer?"

"That the Empire is part of the New Republic now. They can charge me with virtually everything I did."

"You don't say. Ur'tek will bring up Alderaan next, I am sure. Anything I should know there?"

"Nothing you don't already know. I did not prevent it, although I was in a position to do so."

"Not again," Gita sighed. "Palpatine would have killed you. We have been through that already."

"I did not protest."

"Oh, wonderful. Maybe you want to take Ur'tek's job? You would make a great attorney. Really. The defendant would not stand any chance at all."

"Thinking about it, that is actually not such a bad idea..."

"Spare me, your lordship. You are neither good at telling lies _nor_ telling jokes."

He shrugged: "Fact is, we cannot win this one."

"Quite the optimist. Now, let's get down to business."

Stalking the underground of Coruscant, he let his thoughts drift. He had caught up on recent events in the public library and had been quite impressed by the speed at which things had happened. Speed. He shuddered with dread, remembering the surge of adrenaline as he had charged into the open, his senses alert, his ears trying to pick up the quiet 'click' as the system activated. The whir of servomotors, the whine of laser bolts whipping past him, the sudden pain... He sighed deeply. 

"Can I help you?" a husky voice asked, but the woman flinched away when his cold eyes turned on her. 

"I doubt it," he said sarcastically and started walking faster.

"Turve, you know I like you," the man said, bringing a smile to the reporter's lips. "But why don't you let it go? Find yourself another story. This is not worthy of your time. Everyone is reporting on the trial. That guy you told me about, that mysterious stranger. Why don't you try to find him again? That sounds like an interesting story."

"Sure, sure. But where do I start?"

"You are the investigator. I just publish your stuff."

"I know, Jellan. I know, believe me."

"Look. Take your time, but get me the story. We need an edge over this trial thing."

"But everyone is talking about it!"

"Once he's dead noone will even remember. There may be some holo-dramas, a documentary or two, but by then we will need something new. Something noone else has. So get me the exclusive rights and I'll get you the Tahnera Prize."

When he had left Jellan's office, walking the great hallways of the J.A.F. MediaGroup, Turve was already busy trying to determine how he could find his quarry. Apparently the man had something to hide, so he would lie low. Which meant that he could definitely rule out the more exclusive parts of the city. Time to activate some of his informants. He hurried into his office as quickly as he could, heated up some food and started munching while typing messages into his datapad. A description, that was what he needed: new in town, average height, dark, graying hair, blue eyes, definitely a professional. People like that did not just hang around anywhere. But where? That was the tricky question. A slow smile spread on his lips when he realized that he knew someone he could ask. He just had to get past his watchdog. Gita Deron was not easy to fool and she was as hard as durasteel when it came to protecting her clients' interests. But he would get her in the end.

Judge Nab eyed Anakin with an open expression, seeming very alert and composed. The crowd though was in a foul mood, greeting the defendant with a chorus of shouted insults and threats. It took the wardens some time to calm them down and it was all Luke could do to not simply stand up and leave. He hated this display of emotions, the sadistic hunger he felt from them as they hung there in their seats or from the galleries, leering at the judge, at the witnesses, at the man whose face bore a slightly bored expression, as if he did not care at all for what was going on around him. But Luke could feel his father's anguish, the shame and anger. It was a dangerous time for Anakin Skywalker, very dangerous indeed, and the Jedi Master was not certain if the Court had taken this danger into consideration at all. He doubted it. Yet there was nothing else for him to do than offer his father his silent support, by being there with him. 

"Mister Ur'tek, I believe you wanted to bring in another charge," Firek Nab said calmly, nodding toward the attorney. The Twi'lek bounded out of his chair, a triumphant smirk on his lips.

"Alderaan, Your Honor. I would like to question Lord Skywalker on the planet's destruction."

Luke watched his father take the witness seat, his eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Lord Skywalker, who informed you of Wilhuff Tarkin's plan to destroy the homeworld of Princess Leia?"

"He did, himself."

"What were his motives?"

"He was trying to gain information on the Rebels' current base of operations."

"Was there no other way?"

"No."

"No. I see. Yet we know that you had the Princess tortured beforehand, in your own attempt to get at that information."

"Yes."

Luke winced at the renewed shouts rising from the audience. 

"So you had your daughter tortured?"

"Yes."

Ur'tek gave the defendant a quizzical glance. Undoubtedly he had expected him to justify his actions by claiming that he had not known about Leia's parentage. But Luke understood that his father saw no sense in anything like that. It would not make a difference anyway.

"When Wilhuff Tarkin told you about his plans concerning Alderaan, how did you react?"

"It was the logical step to take, since all other means had failed."

"You did not protest?"

"I thought it a shameless waste, but any interference would have been too high a risk."

"Too high a risk for what?"

"I was, Mister Ur'tek, very close to reaching the place I wanted to, as the Emperor's most trusted agent. I did not want to risk his displeasure with my actions."

"So Alderaan was sacrificed for your ambition?"

"It was sacrificed for the sake of information."

The angry roars became louder, the volume intensifying to an almost deafening level. Luke frowned at the audience, their angry faces, as he shut down his Force-enhanced perception quickly to keep from being overwhelmed by the hostile atmosphere. Turning towards the others again he saw his father smile coldly.

"But—" Ur'tek seemed at a loss of how to continue. "But the Princess gave you a name, a planet. Dantooine, wasn't it?"

"Yes."

"Then of what use was Alderaan's destruction, if I may ask?"

Anakin shifted in his seat, his eyes becoming slits of blue ice: "I learned only later that Alderaan was to be destroyed no matter what. As an example to others. Opposition to the Emperor was always greatest on that world, so eliminating the planet was also very logical."

"Millions of innocents died. Would it not have been more efficient and less painful to simply have the opposition leaders executed?"

"It is—remarkable—that you speak of pain, Mister Ur'tek. Alderaan's destruction was indeed painful. Not only for the Rebellion. More painful than the mere execution of its leaders would have been. Terror, Mister Ur'tek, is a most effective weapon."

The attorney gave the former Dark Lord a desperate smile.

"And you could sanction all this?"

"Why not? In a war people die. Innocent or not."

It was all the wardens could do to keep the crowd from storming down into the pit of the Senate Chamber's arena. Luke felt his teeth clench in sudden dread. Why was Anakin so boldly defending his position? There was no remorse here, only facts, his view on things as Darth Vader. 

"Lord V...Skywalker. Thank you."

"Miss Deron, would you like to question the witness?"

"Yes, Your Honor, I have quite a few questions." Gita's mouth was drawn into a grim line. Understandably, since Ur'tek had left her nothing but burned ground, literally. 

"Anakin Skywalker, did you fear the Emperor?"

"He was my master."

"That does not answer my question. Were you afraid or was it only ambition that led your actions, or rather inaction, on board the first Death Star?"

"Both."

"So your master would have punished you for interfering?"

"Yes, most certainly."

"Had he punished you before?"

"Yes."

"In what manner?"

Anakin gave the lawyer a cold smile: "If I may ask, what has that got to do with Alderaan?"

"Lord Skywalker, please answer the question," the Judge admonished him, a cold edge in her voice. Gita looked ready to explode. 

"Very well. It is—a bit hard to explain. Physical punishment as well as psychological."

"I assume that it was sufficient to make you fear him. Enough to not act against Tarkin's order. And yet you killed the Emperor later. Why?"

"The risk not to act was too high."

"What if you had lost in that fight?"

"I did lose."

"You killed him."

"And died."

"Tell me, what did you fight for?"

"For my son's life."

"Which was worth more to you than your ambition?"

"Yes."

"Thank you."

"Of course, it was also a good excuse for opposing the Emperor."

"What?"

"Well, he was the only obstacle—"

"Thank you, but that is quite beside the point."

Luke's face had turned ashen when Judge Nab shot a meaningful glance at Anakin, telling him that he may return to his seat. Gita's posture spoke volumes and Luke did not want to be in his father's shoes once those two were alone together again. Then maybe, he did not want to be in Gita's either.

"If you do not want me to continue leading your defense I will gladly pass your case on to someone else."

Gita's tone made it clear that she was highly serious, and it was all Anakin could do not to smile at her outraged expression. 

"I believe that you are most capable."

"Really? And yet you shoot down my defense at every turn. We have to work together. You told me that you want redemption, yet you continue accusing yourself as if all you desire were death."

"I was merely telling the truth."

"But you don't have to tell all of it!" she screamed, pounding her fist on the small table separatingthem, making the two guards standing by the door flinch as one man. "That last remark was absolutely unnecessary! It was sadistic, evil and above all—"

"True."

"Shut up!"

Anakin regarded her calmly, waiting for her to regain her cool composure. It did not take her long, and when she was her old self again she cleared her throat once and closed her eyes.

"Gita, you want me to deny myself. You want me to deny that I am cold, that I am ruthless. I am not nice. Not anymore. And I never will be again."

She stared at him for a while, then nodded in understanding: "Alright. Have it your way then. How about this. Kyp Durron and Gantoris destroyed more than just one planet when under the sway of the Dark Side. They both were let off."

"They were not let off, the Jedi left the New Republic. Their death had already been decided. And I don't want the Court to get the funny idea that those two should be executed after all." 

A reasonable point, Gita had to admit. Unfortunately all of his points were undeniably logical. It was frustrating. 

"As I recall your son made a deal with the Republic, claiming that Jedi are to be judged by the Jedi according to the Code, right?"

He looked at her, disbelief mingling with amusement in his cool blue eyes. When he finally answered his tone was very gentle, but his rough voice brought an edge to his words, making her shiver:

"And how do you think the Jedi would judge someone like me?"

Gita swallowed hard. This was getting them nowhere, literally. "He is your son," she managed at last.

"And yet he has a duty towards the Jedi, one that cannot allow him to build on compassion, if he wants to keep them strong. And that he has to, or else they will be imperiled again. I have told him so before, and he has understood. I do not doubt that Luke would judge me fairly, but the outcome would still be the same."

"No way?"

"No."

"You are not making this easy for me, you know?"

He smiled faintly, then shook his head. "Look, I agreed to this trial because I thought we could get this over with quickly—"

"But we can't! If there is any chance to change your mind—"

"Please, do not interrupt me again. Simply listen. The trial being this public is causing a rift I sought to avoid, but we cannot go back. So we can only play this to the end, with as much dignity as we can muster."

"And then you will die?"

"Yes."

"I do not understand you."

"Then let me tell you this: for a while I deluded myself. I craved nothing but peace, independence and some normalcy, things I had known for only a very short time in my life. There were always other things to consider, duties to fulfill, deeds to justify. Now that I am older I feel that I have become softer, weaker, than I was before. I still want peace, and my freedom is something I would not give up for anything in this galaxy, not even for my family."

"But your life is as precious as that of any other, Anakin," Gita injected in a hushed whisper, without realizing that she was calling him by his first name.

"I know," he answered with a smile. "But by my deeds I have abused that gift I was given, and nothing I can do will heal the wounds I inflicted on it. On myself and others."

"So you would rather not live than live with this burden? The easy way out? You?"

"It is by no way the easy way out, but the one way that won't hurt anyone else. I know myself. I know what I would do, if given leave to do as I please. I would take over control, trying to shape this galaxy after the fashion I see fit, regardless of what other people want or desire."

"What are you telling me? That there is still some of Darth Vader left in you?"

"For heaven's sake, Gita!" he almost shouted. "I _am_ Darth Vader!" Calming down again his eyes turned to ice as he concluded: "And don't ever forget that."

For a long time she was silent, trying to sort out her feelings. You let yourself get distracted by his smile. He is not a bad man and yet he is the worst there can be. He feels no remorse and yet he sees that what he has done is evil. But he has realized that he cannot change it anymore, no matter what. 

He sat in the darkest corner of the gloomiest bar he had found in the underground, seeking the least exposed position, with his back guarded by the reassuringly thick wall. There was no way anyone could approach him without him spotting them first. Not that he expected anyone to even remember him. Therefore it was more than surprising when three men came towards him from the bar. His left hand unconsciously wandered towards the blaster hanging from his belt, his intense eyes kept fixed on the threesome. 

"Are you Wrenga Jixton?" the first asked.

"I am not sure myself. You tell me."

"He is definitely Corellian," the second commented with a smile.

"And you are dead," the man hissed, already moving.

Turve Glat blinked tired eyes at the screen in front of him. Apparently his informants had made first contact with his quarry. Wrenga Jixton, former Gunnery Sergeant and combat instructor at the Imperial Academy of Carida. He had vanished years ago. Why was he back now? That was the big question. A secret, he had told him, but what secret was that? One thing was clear. He had to find Jixton, talk to him. And survive.

Sitting on his bed and leaning against the wall he had closed his eyes, trying to concentrate. But he found that he could not. There was too much going on in his head, literally. The desert being was humming a tune to itself and once again it occurred to the Corellian that they had never been formally introduced. He grimaced at the memory, the confusion he had felt, had felt from the being. The pain as the thing had tried to break free from his mind. 

"Could we please not think about that?"

He smiled.

"Sure. And can you stop humming? It is getting on my nerves." 

"Of course." The being's amusement was mirroring his own.

"I just realized that I never asked your name."

"Really?"

"I am Jix. And you are?"

The feeling he got from the being was that of dry desert heat, of a hot wind caressing his cheeks and the glare of the bright midday sun in his eyes. There was no sense of individuality there, just a oneness with the desert, the mountains, the sky. Jix was taken aback by the sheer magnitude of the sight, the endless horizon, the clear blue sky. Suddenly the cold, starlit night arched across his vision, the blackness of space with glimmering diamonds scattered across its endless satin canvas. Sheer awe filled his mind and he felt tears stream down his cheeks.

"All under heaven are one. Names have no meaning here." 

"But that is just memories, or isn't it?"

"It is all I have left and all that I need."

Daala sat back in the couch, watching the news with a grim expression. She had not talked to Anakin after that fateful interrogation on the subject of Alderaan. His lawyer had not thought it wise to confront him about it right now, and in a way Daala was glad. They had not spoken much since he had been transferred to the prison complex and frankly she hated seeing him caged like that. It was against his nature and against hers as well. And that served as a good excuse for not seeing him. There was no way she would forgive him that he had distanced himself from her like that, treating her like a child. At least she would not forgive him just yet. Of course, if she did not make up her mind fast she might not get the chance anyway. 

Turning off the holo she rose and strode into the kitchenette to prepare some food. That was something else she had to keep in mind. It was not she on trial and she should not be so nervous. As if it were easy for her, seeing her love in that situation, helpless, even if he had chosen his position voluntarily. Anakin was a fool, a proud, stubborn fool. A soft noise brought her head up and her eyes narrowed. 

"Anyone there?" she asked and waited, her ears perking up in an effort to hear anything.

Frowning slightly she looked around the apartment, but could not find anything. Finally she opened the door leading out to the balcony. Stepping outside Daala looked around, rubbing her arms to fight the cold night air assaulting her from all sides. And then a sudden movement caught her attention. Something was stalking through the gardens just underneath. She leaned forward cautiously to see better. When a torch flared up all of a sudden Daala flinched back, blinded at first. And then, just before the pain struck her, a deafening noise hit her like thunder.

Luke Skywalker rushed into the high security complex, guards and wardens blocking his way, but he pushed past them almost brutally. A wall of rage hit him as he neared what he perceived as a black hole of darkness, and what he knew to be the source of all this excitement and fear. When he had heard the news he had immediately left the Jedi's newly founded academy here on Coruscant, telling himself over and over again that if they could master that crisis they had nothing to fear anymore. Leia had called him on the way, her despair almost palpable. She had asked him to protect everyone, if he could. 

Which was remarkable in itself. But then, they both knew that if anyone did not need any protection it was their father.

When Luke finally reached the room that was Anakin Skywalker's cell he was not surprised to see it crowded by security personnel. In the midst of it all Anakin was striding the expanse of the room restlessly, apparently trying very hard to vent his anger without hurting anyone. His face was a mask of fury, his eyes burning with a fire that threatened to sear anyone who came too close. Dozens of blaster rifles were trained on the Jedi Lord and more pairs of frightened eyes than Luke cared to count were tracking his every move. If he could not ease the situation fast someone might pull the trigger out of sheer terror. 

"Excuse me," the Jedi Master said in a loud and clear voice, trying to gain their attention.

Rounding on him his father growled softly, then came forward briskly, his hands balled into fists tightly. 

"I want to see her," he hissed, paying no heed to the guards surging back at his approach, confusion plain on their faces. 

"Please, calm down," Luke said, laying a hand on his shoulder.

Anakin immediately slapped his arm away, his eyes turning impossibly cold. Luke swallowed hard.

"It would not be a good idea right now," he told him soothingly.

"Not a good idea. Really." Baring his teeth at him his father pushed him aside unceremoniously. But he came up short against a wall of weaponry. With an angry snarl Anakin flicked his hands at the soldiers, making not only Luke flinch when metal snapped with a loud cracking noise. "Get out of my way!" he roared. The first few rows of guards were thrown back into the corridor, as he made his way out.

"Father!" Luke called, eyes wide with despair. What was he to do? If he let him go Anakin would never make it, regardless of all his power. He was far too agitated to think clearly or to act fast enough. And on the other hand, if he tried to stop him... Well, better himself than innocent people. The low snap-hiss of his lightsaber being ignited brought Anakin's head around. Blue eyes narrowing he stared at Luke, an angry frown slashed across his forehead. 

"You dare," he whispered, his voice choked with fury. 

Luke could feel his father's wrath gathering like a storm over his head, ready to strike at any moment. But he stood his ground nevertheless. Squaring his shoulders he nodded at Anakin:

"Father, you have to calm down. There is nothing you can do for her that others could not. She is in good hands, believe me. And killing those who hurt her will not heal her faster."

The look of hurt crossing the other's face almost broke his heart.

"I do not want to lose her again, do you understand?"

"You will not lose her, I promise."

When Anakin suddenly whirled around with a snarl, turning his back on him, Luke almost jumped. Over his father's shoulder he could see two women, frozen in place. Leia had raised her arms in a soothing gesture, tears brimming her eyes as her mouth worked soundlessly, whereas Gita Deron's face could have been used as a hammer, she looked so cold. Luke heaved a tiny sigh, feeling the tension break. Stepping forward he raised his hand to touch Anakin's shoulder. He never saw the attack coming and by the time his father's elbow hit his chest it was too late to react already. The blow lifted him off his feet and then he felt something slap his face hard. 

Someone screamed—Luke thought it was Leia—as he crashed against the wall. For a second he was frantic, praying that his lightsaber had not hurt anyone. But then the JediMaster was back in the here and now, dread gripping his heart in an iron fist, squeezing hard, when he saw Anakin kneel on the floor, gasping in surprise. He was holding himself upright, propped up on his hands, but he looked stunned. Which he probably was, judging by the smug expression of the soldier standing right behind him, the muzzle of his blaster rifle resting against the prisoner's neck lightly. Luke scrambled to his feet and lurched towards his father, dropping down next to him. He wrapped his arms around Anakin's shoulders, holding him tight. Leaning his head against the other's neck he tried to soothe him, tried to find the calm center in his mind. But there was only turmoil there. Chaos and pain and anger. "It will be alright. Everything will be alright," Luke whispered in his ear, but he could not even convince himself.

TBC


	3. Encounters

All under Heaven

Disclaimer: The characters belong to someone else.

Chapter 3

Leia was pacing the living-room, knowing full well that she was getting on Han's nerves. He was watching her, concern plain on his face, but he refrained from saying anything. 

It had been just two hours ago that her father had flipped, almost going berserk when he had learned of the attack on Daala. Authorities had been quick to appease the twins that they would do anything in their power to find the assaulters as soon as possible. And Luke had told them very drily that they better had, or else Anakin would go looking himself. And that was something they all wanted to avoid. The princess had to admit that her father had truly frightened her, and not only when he had attacked her brother without hesitating at all. 

"Where is he now?" Han asked finally, heaving a tiny sigh.

"They have sedated him, but I doubt that they can keep him under for long."

"He is lucky they did not just shoot him there and then."

"Yes, true," Leia conceded, throwing her hands up in disgust.

That was something else that bothered her. They had managed to keep this relatively low, but news was hard to contain and especially news like this. For the night she expected yet another media commentary and she could well imagine what they would say now: that the trial was obsolete, that the guard should have shot him anyway. And there was nothing she could do about it. It was politics. If Anakin had been killed, the government might have been accused of trying to belittle their role in all this. As if they were not going to have to expect criticism anyway. She could already see herself on some podium discussion, justifying the actions of the Provisory Council and the New Republic government later on. And the Senate discussions she would have to face... Gita Deron, her father's lawyer, had been very close-mouthed ever since the incident, understandably. She was seeing all her client's hope vanish down the drain. First his statement on Alderaan and the Emperor and now this. Luke had taken the attack surprisingly well, but he too seemed concerned. And Leia could truly bear with him.

"Do you know what Luke said?"

"No," Han frowned. "What was it?"

"When Father told him that he did not want to lose her -"

"Yes?"

"Luke says he is not sure if he meant Daala."

"Who else should he mean?"

"My mother."

"I am not sure I understand."

"He was reliving Mother's death, sort of, or at least that is what Luke thinks."

"Why?"

"The Dark Side was very strong in him, stronger than before. I think Luke might be right. He was not himself."

"You mean that he is losing it?"

"What? No. How can you say that? He is not mad, believe me."

"Then why?"

"Don't you see? We only know him as being under tight control, but he is only human. Now that he is under this much pressure... I understand how he feels."

Han barked an incredulous laugh: "Under control? Him?" He hesitated, blinked his eyes and gave her a faint smile: "You are right. Even when he is angry it is a sort of controlled fury. Now that you mention it."

"Han, right now he is reliving his worst nightmares. He is locked up, his beloved has been injured by a mob and there is nothing he can do about it without.... Oh my stars. I don't even want to think about it!"

Anakin Skywalker was wandering the dunes just West of Mos Espa on Tatooine. He knew that he was technically unconscious, but his mind was as free as ever. No, not quite. How could he be truly free with all these restrictions placed on him? And on the other hand, what would he be without emotions? A machine, nothing more. He winced at the thought, remembering his service to Palpatine. What he had told Gita Deron was true: he was Darth Vader and Vader was Anakin Skywalker. A cold machine without feelings, with only logic to guide him. And his anger, admittedly. He did not want to go back to being that ever again. And yet he had the distinct feeling that it was his only choice if he wanted to survive. Anakin sighed deeply. And froze. He remembered this place now. The desert. Looking up he felt his mind drawn into the sky and beyond. His head spinning, he closed his eyes, trying to concentrate. But he really had no chance as the darkness started closing in, swallowing the light. His desperate scream was lost in the void, unheard. 

It was as if someone had drawn a knife across the inside of his head and the pain brought Jix awake in an instant. "Damn!" he cursed, sitting up. "Shit." 

The split-second between becoming aware of the three thugs standing at the balcony door and vaulting himself off the bed was filled with a sudden surge of adrenaline, making him feel as if his skin was being peeled off by an icy hail storm. Jix came up against the doorframe, already shooting. The desert being was a sharp blade, poised for action in the back of his mind, and that was the way he liked it most. But why had he not heard them earlier? Had he really been that tired from just walking around the city? Aiming a shot at the last man standing, Jix relaxed a bit. 

He rose with a sigh, then walked over, keeping the wall between himself and the balcony, in case there were snipers hidden anywhere in the vicinity. That they had caught up to him that fast worried him immensely. Was he so easy to read? For a moment he squeezed his eyes shut. Alright. Time to stop playing by their rules. 

Turve Glat was slouched over his compad, yawning heartily into his full cup of caf. "Come on, where are ya?" he said to himself, hitting the search key. 

"Right behind you." 

Whirling around in his chair Turve hit his right knee on the edge of his desk, jumped up and caught his foot in the jacket he had left on the floor the previous evening. When he hit the floor, face down, Turve was pretty sure that things could not get any worse. But then Wrenga Jixton sat down next to him, balancing himself on his haunches with a cat-like grace. 

"Hello. We meet again."

"A pleasure," Glat wheezed and pushed himself upright again.

The other's blue eyes were twinkling in quiet amusement. "Thought I might pay you a visit since you are having such a hard time finding me."

"Really?"

"You and I need to talk."

"The secret?"

"The one. Why are you looking for me? I thought you wanted to cover the trial."

"Yeah, true. Did you know that Vader was nearly killed yesterday?"

"What? Why should I care?"

But Turve had noticed the incredulous tone in Jixton's voice and his eyes narrowed slightly. A mistake. A low growl was his only warning before he was pushed up against his desk. 

"What do you know, Glat? Tell me!"

"Know what about?" Turve hissed. 

"Don't play games with me! Who told you to drop the trial in favor of some nobody keeping dubious secrets? You are a professional and you dismissed my story. Now - again - who told you?"

"Jellan. My boss."

Jixton let go of him abruptly, and took to pacing the room restlessly.

"Your boss. Who is he?"

"He owns the J.A.F. MediaGroup."

"What is that?"

"The biggest media conglomerate around. They produce Coruscant Daily, among a few other shows."

"And you work for them?"

"Obviously."

"Cute. You have no idea what you got yourself into. You said that Vader nearly got killed? Why?"

"He tried to break out. That's all I know."

"There must have been something else."

"Why?"

"I know him, remember? Is there any chance we could see him?"

"No way. That is, if you can't get past his lawyer you only have to get past the security system."

"So you cannot get me in there?"  
  
"You are a wanted man, Mister Jixton."

The man did not react at all. Apparently he was deep in thought. "They've got a 77ex2 model. I don't think I've ever managed to crack that one."

"What are you talking about?"

"The prison's security system. What else?"

"You really want to see him?"

"Definitely. Oh, and Mister Glat. You too, are a wanted man. If you don't get off my trail and out of my way you will wish that you had never met me or else taken my offer the first time."

Gita was watching her client with some concern. He had promised to behave in the court-room, but she was not sure if his being there was a good idea. The audience was staring at him as if they were only waiting for him to flip again. He requited their curious attention with a stony expression, his blue eyes pits of ice. Ur'tek had agreed with Gita that it might not be a good idea to question him just yet. Not that there was any need to hear his point of view. The facts alone condemned him well enough without him helping out. By listening to the charges alone Gita felt her heart sink further and further. At her side Anakin Skywalker was staring straight ahead and she was not even sure if he was aware of what was going on around him. 

He had spent two days in an artificial coma and the prison's security personnel had been really worried when the doctors had woken him again. Gita remembered how he had first opened his eyes, not all of a sudden, as if in surprise or panic, but slowly, deliberately, as if it was nothing more but a calculated move and not an instinctive reaction to the stimulant he had been given to start his metabolism again. He had not uttered one word, had just stared up at the ceiling, waiting for whatever would happen next. The head warden had lectured him about the rules under which they would release him again and he had simply nodded in aquiescence. They had unstrapped him from the bed and taken him back to his cell. And Gita had watched it all, and she had never felt so helpless. He had plain given up, just like that. If there was one ounce of fight left in him, she would rather not know what he was planning to use it for.

He was shielding himself against any intrusion. Not that Luke would ever have thought about examining his father's mind without his permission. But Anakin had shut himself off completely. He could not even get an inkling of his current mood. A really bad sign. Gita had told him that he had not said one thing since he had awakened again. To noone. She had tried talking to him repeatedly and he had not even looked at her. If asked something he would nod or shake his head, as if in some sort of trance. And Luke had the distinct feeling that he did not care for the trial's outcome anymore. He would have to talk to Gita soon, to see what chances she saw. But, looking at her grim-faced expression he could already guess at her answer. 

Right now Ur'tek was going on about the Empire's treatment of captured Rebel soldiers, of refugees and planets behaving out of line. It was an ugly tale and Anakin did not seem to be fazed at all by the gruesome details. Luke could already hear the protesting voices rise up again, in a hushed whisper, but he could see the wardens throw suspicious glances into the crowd. Suddenly Anakin rose from his seat, a faint smile on his lips. The attorney swallowed his last words, sputtering, as he stared at the defendant, wide-eyed with fear. Luke was taken completely by surprise. He just knew that his mouth was hanging open and clamped it shut immediately. 

"If I may?" Anakin's voice was perfectly calm and under the current circumstances his tone seemed unreal.

"Lord Skywalker, the Court would ask you to take your seat again. Else we will have to remove you from this court-room." 

The Judge gave him a meaningful nod, clearly urging him to sit down again. But Luke would have been really shocked if his father had complied with her demand. Instead Anakin left the stand, shaking off Gita's hand when she reached out to stop him. He moved towards Firek Nab with a slow, predatory grace, his black-clad body conveying an image of unlimited dark power. This was not Anakin Skywalker, Jedi Knight, but the Dark Lord of the Sith come back to life again. Luke could feel his heart beat in his throat, ready to jump out of his mouth. As Anakin turned to face the suddenly very silent crowd his smile deepened. 

"I think we have heard enough. There is no need to carry this - further."

They all could hear the unspoken word. A farce. It was nothing more and everyone knew it. Luke swallowed hard. Anakin had finally run out patience. And he apparently was determined to end this the hard way. 

"Lord Skywalker, the Court will decide when to close this trial."

"Then I suggest you do it now."

The low hiss cut into their heads like a red-hot knife, and Luke could feel the fear roll like a shock wave over the audience, freezing everyone to stone. Even the judge was speechless for a moment. But she rallied magnificently. 

"Very well. The session is closed for today. I would ask the defense and the state attorney to prepare their speeches for tomorrow."

The look she gave Anakin was icy cold, but he simply nodded in grim satisfaction, closing his eyes for a moment before he rejoined Gita Deron in the defendant's stand. Things could not get any worse, Luke decided and rose on unsteady feet. He managed to intercept his father when he was led out of the chamber by five very nervous guards. 

"We need to talk," he told him.

"Yes, we do."

"Very soon, I think."

Anakin gave him a short nod: "Tomorrow."

And then he was gone.

Sitting in her office, Leia was barely able to keep her mind on the problems at hand. Her thoughts were drifting off to the trial every five seconds or so. And no wonder. She did not like what was going on at all. Of course she understood her father's motivation, but why did he have to be so selfish? For that was what he was, only seeing his own point of view and acting solely on that view. As if his family did have no say in the matter. She felt a single tear slide down her left cheek. Why can't you just be dead? The thought shocked her, and if only because it was what she truly felt. During the whole week this trial had lasted so far she had not been able to see her children for two hours a day, let alone her husband. She was only busy with Senate meetings, complaints, signing off press releases and official announcements, feeling that what she did was the least important of what she could possibly be doing. How could she let this trial eat up so much of her time? For heaven's sake, she had been President of the New Republic for barely a month now. She had other things to do. 

The intercomm chimed suddenly. "Alole, what is it?"

"Madam, there is a man here to see you."

"What man? Does he have a name?" Why did her aide sound so nervous?

"He didn't give me one."

"Send him in and alert security, just in case."

"Yes, of course."

Leia raised her head expectantly, leaning back in her chair slowly. The newcomer was a man of average height, with very short and very blonde hair. His eyes were a calm sea of blue, but there was something about him that made her frown suspiciously. 

"Who are you?"

"That is of no consequence," he answered with a smile and took a seat in front of her desk.

"No? Then maybe you would like to tell me what you want instead?"

"With pleasure. Have you, apart from the trial, heard anything else on the news?" 

Her eyes flickered for a second: "No. What are you trying to tell me?"

"You understand, I have no proof for this, but there is something going on. And you had better watch out."

"A bit cryptic. You could not give me more detail, could you?"

"Of course. If I knew where to look, I could."

"What?"

"They are very subtle and you will not spot it at first glance. But take a close look at what is going on. Look for unexplained happenings. Weather changes, uprisings, new building projects. You name it."

"What do you mean?"

"Creating your own markets and news. Ever heard of that?"

"Of course. It is basic economic strategy."

"Yeah, true. But the means are a bit different here."

"Who are you?"

"I won't bother you much longer. If they find out that I talked to you at all, you will be on their list too."

When he rose Leia followed his lead with a sardonic smile on her lips: "It is not as if you told me anything."

"You are a smart woman. Your father's daughter. You will find a way. And I will too. There is just one thing I have to ask. I have to talk to Lord Vader. Can you help me there?"

Leia frowned at him: "You'd have to clear security and they'll double-check your identity."

"You are the President."

"I imagine that I could pull some strings, yes, but if anything happens I'll never hear the end of it. And why should I grant you that request at all?"

"That's what you are afraid of? You father never bothered about what other people thought of his actions."

"And look where that leaves him now," Leia shot back coolly.

"Point taken."

"Does that mean that you will not take my offer?"

A smile appeared on his face as he shook his head: "I wouldn't want to get you into trouble. But thank you anyway."

"So, what do you plan to do?"

"Find proof."

"Why don't you tell me about the people who are after you?"

He rose abruptly, scanning the room suspiciously.

"This office is swept for listening devices twice every day."

"But can you trust those who do the job?"

"Well, I can see that you do not trust anyone. Please, calm down. And tell me what you know."

Pacing his small office furiously Turve Glat was trying to make sense of this mess. What did Jixton want from him? He had said something about the trial being nothing new. So the secret he had been going on about had to be something else. For the sixteenth time that afternoon the reporter scanned the news agencies' reports. There was nothing but the usual stuff. An earthquake had made it close to the top of the list, but the trial still dominated the first five places. Looking further down Turve sighed. Pakrat Minor was behind schedule with their harvest and their clients were getting impatient. That was hardly something that would interest the public. The economy seldom was. 

Even the fusion of Agracorp and Celltec had virtually gone unnoticed. And those two were the market leaders in food processing and genetic engineering. It could well be that they were planning to work on a new product together, but people would notice it only when faced with the commercials. Local news reported a set of killings in the lower levels of the city and some protests. Nothing from Nar Shadaa. Hutt space in general seemed strangely quiet. Of course, those who needed to know always got the information they required. And the J.A.F. MediaGroup was specializing in entertainment anyway. 

What was it about Jixton? There was a clear connection to Vader, but to the trial too? Why was the man here on Coruscant, even though someone was on his trail? And who was that? He had to talk to Vader, that was for sure. And very soon. Maybe he would go to see the trial tomorrow and perhaps he could slip past Deron unnoticed somehow. Turve grinned at that. Well, he could try something else too.

"Leia, what a charming surprise." The princess returned Borsk Fey'lya's smile weakly. Stepping into his neat office she closed the door behind her.

"I need to talk to you."

"Of course. At any time. Please, take a seat."

"I'll get straight to the point. What do you know about the black market?"

"Depends on the product," he told her.

"Anything, really. Information mostly. And information is what your people excel at."

"Ah, prejudices."

"Justified ones. I know that the Bothan spynet is still intact. There are a few things I need to find out and I can only use the- How shall I put it? The less conspiciuous channels."

"And you mean the NRI is too forward in their approach?"

"They'll expect an attack from that side pretty soon. I want to surprise them."

"Them?"

"Who they are need not concern you."

"I see. And what do I get in exchange for that small service?"

"We'll talk about retribution later."

"You know, I hate working for nothing."

"Come on, Fey'lya. You've had your victory. Leave it be and for once do something that benefits this government."

He smiled at her: "The government. I see. Afraid for your power?"

"No. I just don't want to lose our flexibility. This trial is eating our time and we have other things to do than justify the Truce of Onderon."

"Are you trying to imply that my work does not benefit the New Republic?"

"You are looking to your own interests, Fey'lya, admit it. The past shows it clearly. You endangered the New Republic when you tried to provoke the Empire just to gain personal fame. Don't make that mistake again."

"Your father won't hold your hand this time."  
  
"I am very capable of making my own choices. Now. Will you help me or not?"

Gita was sitting on her chair, arms crossed in front of her chest, and stared out of the front viewport of her small apartment. The screen of her datapad was blank and she had not typed one word on her closing speech. As she had no intention to do so. She was pretty sure that she could not sway the judge's decision, but Gita would be damned if she would grant the audience the satisfaction of a calm conscience. Whatever Anakin Skywalker had done, he had paid a thousandfold for his crimes. And on the other hand he was too dangerous to keep alive. As cruel as it sounded, there was no way anyone could control him. Not even himself. 

But if she could not save his life she could at least try to redeem his name. His little speech in the court-room today had surprised her, because it had shown more initiative than she had expected after his outbreak. Something had to have happened over those two days of unconscious slumber. Anakin seemed poised for action, impatient to get this over with and move on. There was something on his mind and all he craved was action. Luke Skywalker had paid her a visit this afternoon and they had talked for a long time. Both had come to the same conclusion: the sentence would not stop him in whatever enterprise he had found for himself. But the young Jedi Master had insisted that his father would stick to his word, once it was given. When Gita had reminded him that the Dark Lord had broken his word more than one time he had been really surprised. 

No, reason would not help them here. They had to play this by heart.

Turve Glat stared at the local news reports in horror. Why had he not spotted it earlier? Protests from the ex-Imperial worlds had been swallowed by the general hubbub the trial created, but he should have paid more attention to that. There was a rift growing there and the protests on the capital showed plainly that people were willing to do more than just shout. The killings, he suspected, were Jixton's doing though. Was he planning a coup then? Was that why Jellan had urged Turve to get to the bottom of his story? Nah, Jixton didn't strike him as a man who would be that straight forward. Media reports had paid no heed to those happenings, apparently. Why? Everyone was just busy trying to uncover more and more gruesome details from Vader's past, which wasn't hard at all. But maybe he should have a look at the other side, the one out of the light. The dark side. Turve smiled to himself. That would make for a nice, surprising header, wouldn't it? 

Getting on his comlink, he tried calling Gita Deron again. It took some seconds before she finally accepted the call and he could tell at once that she was in a foul mood.

"Mister Glat. I thought I had made it perfectly clear that I do not want to talk to you."

"Busy, are you? It won't be a minute."

"I am glad to hear that. What can I do for you?"

"Well, I had a visit from a man harboring secrets."

"His name?"

"Wrenga Jixton. I suggest you ask your client if he knows him."

"Why should he?"

"He indicated as much. And I have the distinct feeling that Jixton is trying to contact your client."

"What? You mean he is a Jedi?"

"No. No Jedi. No Sith either, I think. He's a professional, definitely."

"And what secrets is he keeping?"

"Frankly, I have no idea. He doesn't trust me anymore. Apparently he's had some nasty visitors himself and now he thinks I brought them on his trail."

"Wait. You mean he came to you with a story?"

"Yes."

"And you declined."

"That's right."

"Thank you, Mister Glat. I suppose you want to know how my client will react to the news?"

"If that is possible?"

"Judgement day is tomorrow. Nothing gets out until all this is over. Understood?"

"Understood. One last question: do you think your client would agree to an interview?"

"We shall see."

Turve smiled smugly at the comm after she had ended the connection. He had no clue as to what he was supposed to be looking for, but Gita Deron most certainly had more insight into and, above all, access to her client's knowledge. Let her do the thinking. If she tripped over something he was sure she would come to him. As for Jixton... If he really was trying to contact Vader he would either show up in the court-room or else at the prison. Remembering the man's statement concerning the facility's security system Turve excluded the latter option. Which meant that he himself would be present too when judgement was announced tomorrow. 

She had her head propped onto her left fist as she stared out into the distance. They had been working for hours and hours, scrutinizing every petition, every little anomaly. Leia knew that, theoretically, not a day did pass without something happening somewhere. It was a big galaxy out there, after all. And now they were here, totally exhausted and badly in need for some rest. At her side the Bothan Senator stirred in front of his datapad's screen.

"Latest report coming in," he announced quietly.

"And?"

"Just what you suspected."

"Oh. Good," Leia groaned and turned around to throw a look over his shoulder.

"What are you going to do? Call off the trial?"

"Not a chance. It is not as if they had done anything illegal. At least not on the surface. It will take months to get past regulations and send the auditioners in there."

"This Jixton. What do you think he is planning?"

"Well, if your people could not find any proof I doubt he could. I mean, what sources does he have access to that we don't?"

Fey'lya got out of his chair and took to pacing the office slowly, obviously deep in thought.

"So, what we have here is very deeply rooted into the system. Getting rid of the vermin will take a long time under current circumstances."

"Nicely put," Leia said with a smile. 

"It's the Empire's fault really. Oligopols aren't good for competition or the economy and if they work the way we assume they do here..."

"But, as I have already stated, there is nothing we can do at once. We have to take this to the Senate."

"Madam, you won't be around anymore by then. They'll force you and your ministers to step down from office for keeping Darth Vader from justice."

She sighed: "I know."

"So? What do we do?"

Leaning back in her chair again Leia remembered her father's eyes in the court-room, his cool tone and the way he had moved. He was definitely up to something. Did he know then? If so, she almost pitied anyone who got in his way.

With his eyes open he tried to penetrate the darkness above in an attempt to recapture some of what he had felt long years ago, before he had become what he was now. 

What had changed? He still did what he thought was the right thing, protecting the interests of the people, admittedly whether they wanted his protection or not, but they did not even see his efforts, let alone honor them. And he knew exactly why that was so. 

Groaning softly he rolled around on his bunk to lie on his side, his head pillowed on his right arm. In the very last lesson he had given his son he had told Luke that his limits were those he set for himself. But something about that felt not right at all. It had seemed very logical and true at that time. For someone with his power the rules had to be different, yet rules had to exist. 

In the years that had passed since his resurrection Anakin had always had the feeling that something was amiss in his life. First he had thought it was his family and their love, then he had believed that what he was truly craving was peace. And still he was not content with his life. It had taken him so long, running around in circles, never seeing the truth. He had been running from himself. But what he had seen in the desert had opened his eyes to his true core. And it hurt to look at it. 

There was too much darkness there, and despite all his efforts of reshaping his life and himself he still was the same. Maybe he had grown up too fast, maybe his masters had tried building a fortress on a sand dune, but one thing was certain: his need for controlling everything around him was the logical reaction of someone who was, in essence, terribly insecure. He could not control himself and that was what frightened him so. On the one hand he was still the idealistic boy he had been when he had first met the Jedi, believing firmly in the Light and the good inside people. On the other hand though he had been through too much to simply close his eyes to reality. And the idealist had made good use of the pessimist's dark power to make his dreams come true. How could he have ever been so arrogant to assume that just because he had the power it was his place to take action? The trial had shown him that he had come a very long way from the compassionate, selfless slave boy to a contemptuous, selfish despot. Without compassion he was nothing but a killer, exactly the way everyone saw him, even his children. 

Maybe he could have started anew, letting love guide his way, leaving everything to Luke, who was a better warrior than himself anyway. But he was granted no chance to do just that, neither by himself nor by the people. He had always assumed that he had to take care of everything and now he found that he could not let go of that responsibility. He could not simply stand back. That was why he wanted to die. Gita had told him that he was choosing the easy way out. But she did not realize that there was no other way for him left. Anakin shuddered with dread, remembering the desert again. The road to redemption was blocked for him, he knew. And just as he had learned to live with the darkness he would have to learn living with that too. Or at least he would have to accept it.

When the door to his cell chimed suddenly he started violently, so immersed had he been in his dark broodings. Raising his head he turned to squint at the light, barely able to make out two guards standing there in the doorway. "What is it?" he asked hoarsely. 

"A visitor for you."

Staring at her hands stretched out neatly on the table top, Gita tried to compose herself. When Anakin was led into the room she gave him a small smile, but she could not help but notice the dark rings circling his eyes. He had not slept well, if at all. He took his seat quietly, his features slack as if he had just wakened from a dream and still was not fully awake. Well, maybe she could rile him up a bit.

"There is a man onplanet who has been asking for you."

He laughed at that: "Is there anyone who doesn't?"

"His name is Wrenga Jixton. Do you know him?"

"Jixton. What is he doing here?"

"You tell me. Who is he anyway?"

"An agent of mine. I haven't seen him since... I haven't seen him in a very long time."

"And the last time you saw him?"

"Seven years ago, here, on Coruscant."

"Any idea why he could be here?"

He hesitated, his eyes flickering a bit before he shook his head. But Gita did not let herself be fooled. She was certain that he was hiding something.

"Maybe he's here because of the trial. Did he contact you?" he said finally.

"No, he met with Turve Glat."

"The reporter? Fancy that. Did he have any idea?"

"No. I believe that be thinks he can let me do all the work."

"What work?" Anakin asked innocently. Gita didn't buy it.

"Getting answers from you. You have a suspicion?"

"Yes."

Drawing a deep breath the lawyer tried a smile: "Now we are getting somewhere. So?"

"So what? Just because I may have an inkling of what is going on does not mean that I will tell you."

"No?"

"No."

"Then what about Jixton? What if he is trying to see you?"

"Let him try."

She sighed deeply: "Tomorrow you will most certainly be sentenced to die. Doesn't that bother you?"

"No."

"You aren't planning anything stupid, are you?"

"Stupid as in?"

"I don't know!" She threw her hands up in disgust: "I simply cannot see you giving up just like that."

"Then maybe you should get used to it."

Morning came far too soon for Leia's taste and she knew that she must have been looking terrible when she saw the look in Luke's eyes upon meeting him in her office. They had decided to go to the trial together and Han had been content to stay home and take care of the children. Her brother hugged her tightly and that gesture told her more than any words could have. She returned it fiercely. Once they had parted again Luke took a seat and he too looked exhausted.

"Where is Mara?" Leia asked at last.

"She says she doesn't want to see it. And I can understand that very well."

"Did you get my message yesterday?"

He nodded: "I am going to talk to him today anyway, and I will ask him about that too."

"How do you think he will react?"

A roguish smile lit up his face: "The same way you wish he would too."

"I don't want him to die and yet - I want this to end. I don't want the past to dictate our present and future. It is too much of a burden."

Her brother shook his head solemnly: "It is exactly the burden that keeps us from losing our heads, Leia. Despite what he has done, he is an example to all of us."

"I wish everyone were as wise as you are, Luke. But people don't think that way."

"Some do."

"But they can't save him."

"No, probably not. But what are you going to do?"

Leia shook her head and gave him a brave smile: "Someone told me that I should not heed other people's views when I think that what I am doing is right. I will see this through, either way. We cannot go on like this anymore. Changes are badly needed. All I have to do is convince the Senate that they are indeed more important than keeping their power to themselves."

"Truly a monumental task."

"Easy is not for you and me, brother."

"Very true. Come on," he said, rising abruptly and in a flash the smile was back." Let's go and face our destiny."

Security was very tight that day, Gita noticed as she took her seat nervously. There was a general air of anticipation and a hint of violence ready to break out at any point. But with luck the session today would not take long. She had thought hard on what to say and now she believed she had found a satisfactory solution. Still, she would need to be flexible enough to be able to react to Ur'tek's speech. Not that she could not already guess at what he would say. 

Judge Nab was already in place, calm and composed as ever. Had she already felled her decision? Gita was almost certain of it. A sudden commotion behind her made her turn her head to see the Skywalker twins slip into the room, and into their seats in the front row, right behind Gita. They gave her a couple of reassuring nods, but she could see the sadness in their eyes plainly. They too knew what today would bring. Everyone did. A few rows back Turve Glat was sitting grim-faced and ramrod straight, his eyes constantly searching the crowd. Who was he looking for? Of course. His mysterious informant, Jixton. Ur'tek hurried in, looking a little bit flustered. When he passed Gita he flashed a smile at her, not unkindly.

Silence fell suddenly when Anakin Skywalker strode into the court-room, his powerful steps measured and calm. He closed the distance to the defendant's stand fast, not bothering to meet anyone's eye. It was not a grand entry, she thought, and there was no arrogance in his posture when he sat down next to Gita. Apparently he had decided that he would give the cameras no suitable fodder for any sensational report. For now. But, knowing him, that could change in a heart-beat. They had talked a bit more the last night and when Gita had come home very early in the morning she had felt like crying. Despite his calm appearance she could see that he was restless, but maybe that was just the normal reaction to having all eyes fastened on him alone. 

"The Court opens today's session," the Judge announced suddenly. "The trial New Republic versus Anakin Skywalker will be concluded today. The Court has heard all evidence and has examined the facts closely. I would ask Mister Ur'tek to step forward for your concluding statement."

The attorney ambled into the center of the small circle unhurriedly, and bowed slightly towards Firek Nab:

"This trial, like no other, has caused so much commotion in the past week that we have nearly forgotten what it is about. This is not about Anakin Skywalker, but about what he has done. The charges encompass genocide and murder, proven facts. And yet the defense has described to us in great length what the defendant has accomplished in favor of the New Republic. But I say we cannot forget what has gone before. It is true that Anakin Skywalker died for his crimes once already, but the facts remain. Throughout the trial he has shown no remorse and has assaulted our minds with his undeniable logic, without paying any heed to ethics or moral grounds. 

I am sure that for him his actions were valid and still are, but they are against everything the New Republic stands for. There are rules and everyone has to abide by them. Even if we forget every crime Anakin Skywalker committed as Darth Vader we can see no change in his behavior. He has continued breaking his word to accomplish his own goals and he has not refrained from going against the law repeatedly. I need not recount those tales for you. We have heard enough of them. 

Now the Court has to decide whether this man continues to be a threat for the public, as he has proven to be in the past, and if we can take the risk of controlling him if he still is. The facts show that there is no way to control someone like him, as long as he cannot control himself. He has not managed to do so for the past year and I personally doubt that he ever will. In the light of all facts I am obliged to call for the highest penalty in this case."

Gita wanted to close her eyes and ears to shut out the roar of cheering voices as the state attorney ended his speech with a triumphant smile on his lips. The shouting went on for an eternity before the wardens managed to regain some sort of silence. But she could still hear the words when she took her place. For a moment she remained standing perfectly still, drawing all attention to herself. Finally she raised her head, holding it high, and when she spoke she spoke softly, forcing the audience to strain their ears to hear her.

"This trial, as Mister Ur'tek has stated so boldly, is not about Anakin Skywalker. It is about justice, or rather, the absence of justice. I agree that what crimes the defendant has committed in his past life and this one cannot be excused, as he himself has told me over and over again. And yet, I cannot condemn him for what he has done. I know that at heart he is an idealist, as hard to understand as that seems when one examines his deeds closely. Anakin Skywalker was born a slave and became a hero. How so? Because he believed that what he did was good, that the way of the Jedi was the right one. But then everything changed. And why? Because he understood that this way would not gain him what he truly desired: peace and justice. Justice again. A concept that is harder to explain than many care for. 

It was not simple black and white thinking that drove Mister Ur'tek to demand the death penalty for this man. But everything has two sides, and one has to decide which side to take. As Anakin Skywalker had to decide what path to choose. Now we claim that he chose wrong, but we have no clue as to what would have happened if he had chosen differently. I realize, of course, that the 'if' does not matter, but still, Anakin Skywalker's vision was just. Even as the dreaded Dark Lord Darth Vader he wanted nothing more than to accomplish the goals the Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker did not have the means to achieve. Again, I make no excuse for the defendant's crimes. 

But I want you all to consider this: the ends may not justify the means, but is the same true for the opposite? By his deeds and by his means Anakin Skywalker brought about the end of Emperor Palpatine and the beginning of what we now proudly refer to as the New Republic. He has suffered greatly for his dream, both at the hands of his enemies and allies, and still he went on to make it come true, despite all the obstacles that were laid into his path by people who sometimes did not have half as much honor and insight as he does. And even if his original intention was different, and even if he has strayed from his path, we would not be here without his help. I do not want to make him an example for anyone, for he has made grave mistakes that have hurt and killed very many people. But the Court should consider this too: there is no justice and there is no objectivity, but we can at least try to see both sides. That is all I ask. Thank you."

The silence following her words was suffocating, but what she could see on the faces of the audience, stunned expressions, or disbelieving snarls, frozen in place, told her enough. She had managed to rattle them severely. Luke Skywalker was staring at her wide-eyed and his sister wore a faint smile on her beautiful face. Walking back to her seat slowly, as if in a trance, Gita only belatedly noticed the look in Anakin's eyes. She stopped short, shocked, and for a split-second she considered calling for a medic. His complexion had turned deadly pale, almost gray, and his blue eyes were shining with a feverish gleam.

"Are you alright?" she whispered when she had overcome her surprise and had sat down at his side.

He did not answer.

"Thank you, Miss Deron. The Court will decide this afternoon. This session is closed until the sentence is announced."

Gita spent the next four hours pacing her office nervously. Maybe, just maybe, she had been able to sway the judge's decision also. But when they were called back into the court-room she saw all her hopes vanish in the black vortex of Firek Nab's gaze.

"Anakin Skywalker, after a close examination of all facts and the statements made both by the defense and the state attorney the Court sentences you to death. The sentence will be carried out in fifteen standard days. Do you accept that sentence?"

Swallowing hard Gita nodded, but her eyes flickered towards Anakin for a heart-beat: "Just one thing: the defense asks for thirty days."

"This is not a bazaar, this is a court-room!" One of the aides bent over towards the Bith and whispered something in her ear. Blinking her huge black eyes the judge harrumphed musically. "I am told that there is a specific reason for your demand and it is hereby granted under the provisions of paragraph 143 of the Judicial Charter. Thirty days it is."

"Thank you, Your Honor," Gita whispered, feeling her voice choked with silent tears.

They had lost. They had well and truly lost.

Jix watched the Judge pronounce the sentence with mixed feelings. On the one hand he thought that Vader had deserved it anyway, but on the other hand what his lawyer had said was valid too. He remembered the Dark Lord well enough to recall the man's fierce sense of independence, his hunger for control and above all his desire for peace. He had hated unnecessary conflicts and had used to end them quite violently. Or rather, he had Jix end them. 

But the Corellian never would have expected Vader to give up like this. He had expected a snide comment at the least, not this cool silence the defendant kept as he left the court-room again, the cameras zooming in on his calm face. He had changed, definitely. And he was the only one who would be able to help him in his enterprise.

Leia lay on her bed, her arms hugged around her pillow hard, staring straight ahead at the wall. She knew that Han was standing in the doorway, watching her, but she did not have the strength to talk to him just now. And yet she could feel his hurt at her rejection across the room. 

"Han, please. I need some time alone."

"What you need is something to take your mind off all this."

"Not just yet, okay?"

"Okay. If you say so, hon'."

She listened to his quiet footsteps as he retreated into the hallway, closing the door behind him. Why was she so sad anyway? She had expected this, hadn't she? And yet, Gita Deron's words had shown her that she had deluded herself. She loved Anakin more than she cared to admit, but keeping a distance had seemed so convenient to keep herself from being hurt again. It was hard to decide on her feelings in the matter at first, because she too had learned to carry responsibility, to see everyone's point of view. But in this case she could be nothing but a daughter about to lose her father again. The tears came easily once she recalled him playing with his grand-children, the radiant smile whenever he looked at her, his strength and determination that had always been an example to her, no matter what. 

When they had thought that he would die back on Dromund Kaas her heart had been almost broken. And now she found that it truly had this time. It was so unfair. All of it. Burying her face in the soft pillow Leia tried to drown out the noises of her own sobbing, not wanting to scare the children, in case they heard her. How she would tell them that their grandfather was not going to come back this time she did not yet know. They loved him fiercely, just like she did. She was still lying on her bed when Han called her a few hours later.

Sitting cross-legged on the floor Luke watched his father with some concern. He had been able to convince the guards to leave and they were all alone. Anakin seemed too calm for someone who was facing an execution, but then, he had dealt with death two times previously. 

"Are you afraid?" he asked finally.

"Of what?"

"Of death."

Anakin hesitated: "I would rather be a spirit flying by your side than a condemned soul walking the desert for an eternity."

"Please, don't say that."

"Luke, you do not understand. There is no peace for a warrior. Ever."

"What did you find in death then?"

"The first time I died I had only begun my journey to wisdom, but it was ended too soon. There was a lot that I had not understood yet. For example, when you hesitated to kill me aboard the Death Star I cursed your weakness. In your place I would not have hesitated at all. Never."

"You were my father. How could I kill you?"

"It would have minimized your risks."

"You are so cold."

"No, just practical. But the story did not end there. When Palpatine resurrected me I swore that I would learn patience and control, that I would not succumb to the Dark Side ever again."

"But you did, in the end."

"Compassion, Luke, is what has to rule a warrior. You had realized that even before you became a Jedi Knight. It was compassion that let you spare my life at Endor."

"It was love."

"No. How could you love me when you did not know me at all? Do not delude yourself here. You were much more courageous than I would have been when you decided to let your enemy live and even turned your back to him. I could have killed you so easily then."

"But you did not."

"I was humiliated. I was ashamed because I had failed to turn you. Don't look at me like that, Luke! It is the truth."

"Who did you have compassion with then, back on Byss?"

"You, your sister. Palpatine had hurt you two so much. I could not let him continue."

"Then it was not revenge that made you kill him?"

"No. Well, maybe a bit. Compassion means that you have to share with your fellow beings everything they experience, be it fear, solitude, pain or even joy. I am much too pragmatic for that because I want to reach my goals no matter what. I am - in a way - afraid to give myself over to that sort of commitment. You are not."

"Maybe I could teach you."

"Too late for that, my son."

"It is never too late."

Anakin laughed. "You speak so lightly of time, when there is never nearly enough to accomplish anything."

"Father, you did not answer my question yet," Luke admonished him gently.

"Ah, you are very observant, my son. Indeed. I did not." Closing his eyes Anakin sighed deeply. "If you compare death to a desert you will find that the void will strip you of an identity, of all you are, until all that is left is the core of your being. There is nothing but memories. Can you imagine that? Can you imagine how that feels for me? It is hell, I am telling you. And I have been to quite a few bad places. So yes, I am afraid to die yet again. Especially now."

"Are you afraid of the way or afraid of what you will find at the end of the journey?"

"Both, I think. Back on Dromund Kaas I thought that I had finally learned my lesson, but now I find that I could not let go, as I have taught you to. I wanted to make amends for what I had done and had to realize that it would never be enough."

"Father, I am so sorry for you."

"Thank you. It is good to know that someone cares."

"We all care for you."

"Yes, I know."

"I... do not want to lose you again."

"And that too, Luke, is a wish that comes too late."

The young Jedi Master stared at the tall warlord sitting opposite from him, a stranger and yet so close that it hurt to hear him say something like this. With a small, desperate cry he threw himself in his father's arms, hugging him tightly, afraid to let go ever again. He could feel the bond they shared, like a warm wind caressing his soul, but there was a coldness on the other end that made him shiver. It was as if Anakin was walking the desert already, moving further away with every step he took on his endless journey, leaving everything behind that held him back in this world. But Luke would not let him go that easily. Burying deeper in a desperate attempt to catch him he found his father retreat before him slowly, raising up cold walls at any turn to keep him away.

"Father," he whispered finally. "Please don't go."

Anakin lowered his head slowly, resting his cheek against Luke's forehead: "I will be with you. Always."

Night was falling quietly over Coruscant, but life went on. That was, it would go on if he managed to evade his hunters and the prison's security system. Crouching atop the roof, Wrenga Jixton ignored the silent humming in his head. He could not hear the melody, but there was just a feeling, like an echo reverberating in his skull. Alright. First to get inside. He set to work swiftly, remembering vividly each single step and trap. But only twenty minutes later he was stuck in a ventilation shaft. 

"Shit," he cursed whole-heartedly. "Every damn time it is the same."

Jix stared at the shaft accusingly, as if it were the construct's fault that he had no idea how to bypass the next security level. He had worked his brain to exhaustion on finding a solution for years, but he never had been able to come up with an idea that had led him anywhere else than the medical ward. Growling at the memory he retreated a bit into the shaft, unwilling to go on. And yet, he had to try.

"Are you quite comfortable up there?"

Jix froze.

"It's alright," the hoarse voice announced cheerfully. "I have been expecting you."

"Lord Vader?" the Corellian whispered, incredulous.

"Surprised?"

"Guess I shouldn't be. Any idea how I can get to you?"

"Try a circuit-breaker."

"Doesn't work."

"Really? What did you use it on?"

"What sort of question is that?"

"A smart one. Well? There's a relay next to the plug-in for the security camera, right from where you are when you look at the metal girding."

Jix squinted at the small opening. "Got it."

"Good. See the relay?"

"Yeah. But how do you know it is connected to the system?"

"I never said it was."

"What?"

"Connect the circuit-breaker and get the cable. Use the voltage to break the lock once you disconnect the breaker again. And then you can short-circuit the system on this level."

"There never was a handy plug-in whenever I tried that," Jix grumbled quietly.

"Luckily this time there is."

"Yeah, lucky us."

He set to work again, doing as Vader had told him and exactly five minutes later he was standing inside the other's darkened cell. He could not see anything, but he could hear enough. For a while though neither said a word. Then:

"So, we meet again."

"You got me quite into a mess with that last mission, do you know that?"

"No, I was too busy dying."

"Oh, right. I forgot."

"So, what do you want now?"

"Your help."

"Concerning our special friends I sent you to observe those seven years ago?"

"Yep. The same."

There was a low hiss and for a second Jix froze, unsure of how Vader would react to that news.

"This time they shall pay."

"Then you are coming with me?"

"Yes."

"Just like that? You have just been sentenced to death."

"Not my problem. And besides, a lot can happen in thirty days."

"Yeah, a lot. So you really plan on coming back for your own execution?"

The Dark Lord was silent for a while and Jix was growing more and more uncomfortable. But in the end the other heaved a deep sigh:

"I guess I have no other choice." 

TBC


	4. The Mission

Chapter 4

Leia rose with a sigh and for a moment she hesitated, standing at the viewport to look out into the night. When Han called her name again she shook herself, shivering. But there was nothing she could do apart from making her own way and her own decisions. "Honey?" She had not even heard him run up the stairs and yet there he was, standing in the doorway looking flustered and concerned. Leia turned fully towards him and smiled: 

"No need to worry, dear. I am alright now." 

Han grimaced slightly: "Once you have heard the bad news you won't be anymore." 

That got her full attention: "What happened?"

"Your father is gone."

"What?"

"Gone, vanished, whatever. Anywhere but where he should be."

"Oh my stars. This is a disaster." Leia shook her head in dismay, sitting back down on her bed, all of her strength gone in the blink of an eye: "Why does the news always have to be bad?"

"It's traditional," Han tried weakly before he sat down next to her.

"Have you told Luke already?"

"No. Not yet."

"Are they looking for him?"

"Hm-hm."

"Oh gods!"

"Yeah. Don't worry, dear. This isn't so bad."

"How can you say that, Han?"

"Well, I remember what you told me about what you and Fey'lya found out. They are as surprised as we are, but now you can strike while they are still off-balance."

"You know, Han. Sometimes I wonder why you ever left the Imperial Academy."

"Cause I didn't want to end like Needa and the rest of them."

Leia gave him a small smile: "He never would have killed you."

"You really think so?" Han seemed surprised. "Why?"

"Because, my dear, you never apologize for anything."

Stepping into the dimly lit room timidly Anakin's heart ached at the sight of Daala's frail body draped over the single bed. He could see the dark shadows circling her eyes from where he stood and for a moment despair reached for him again: what if she died while he was away?

"Anakin?" her voice sounded pitifully small.

Crossing the distance he sat down beside her and for a long moment their eyes met, sharing the deepest of knowledge. 

"I came to say goodbye," he began tentatively.

"I know," she said slowly and heaved a tiny sigh. 

"The question, I suppose is: will you let me go?"

She looked at him in surprise: "You would really stay if I wished it?"

"Yes."

"A lie, my love, and you know it. Don't ever do that again."

The gentle warning hurt him more than he cared to admit. Slipping from his seat he knelt next to the bed, resting his elbows on the white sheets, watching her. She smiled at him in open amusement:

"What are you doing? Are you asking me for forgiveness, or —" Daala stopped and closed her eyes tightly. "Of course not," she whispered.

Anakin merely continued looking at her, drinking in the sight of her. She understood that he could not stay, he knew. But she was also wise enough to know the dangers he was about to face. Finally, very slowly, Daala reached out to hold his left hand in both of hers. Pressing it to her heart she gave him a brave smile:

"From here to the distant stars all under heaven will be yours to command." Then, placing her left hand over his heart she continued softly: "From here to the deepest darkness all under heaven will be yours to command. When you see a chance dare to cross the line and when the risk is too high stay back. Be humble and learn from your mistakes. And come back to me."

He swallowed hard, speechless at first. Of all things he had not expected this. The words she had chosen were, admittedly, a slight variant of an ancient ritual that had survived the Sith Wars. In this manner the old Jedi had appointed their battle-leaders. And he knew the answer by heart, although he too changed the words to serve this special occasion: 

"I have learned that a people cannot follow the commands of another, while an army in the field cannot follow central control. Someone of two minds cannot properly serve the Force and someone in doubt cannot respond to the enemy. I have already received my calling, and taken sole control of the awesome power of the Light and the Dark. I dare not return alive. I would like to request that you condescend to grant complete and sole command to me. If you do not permit it, I dare not take the post as battle-leader."

Daala's smile deepened despite the tears in her eyes: "I permit it," she whispered, turning up the palm of his hand to kiss it tenderly.

Anakin closed his eyes, feeling relief pour into him like a wild torrent. He could not say anything, not now. That would come later. The only thing that counted now was her. She had set him free and he could not ask for more.

"I have thirty days left. And I will make the most of that time."

"Anakin!" Her eyes widened in shock. "You can't be serious!"

"I am always serious, my love. I have accepted the sentence and it is not my place to revoke it."

"Not your place! Anakin, you are such a fool!"

"Untrue," he said with a smile." I know what I am doing."

"You know that you are endangering the government, and your daughter."

"She can deal with it, I am certain of that."

"Yes, but —"

"But?"

She hesitated before answering and when she did she averted her eyes, looking out of the viewport instead of at him: "I remember the one time I let you go to face your destiny, to die. I do not want you to have returned to me now just to leave again. It hurt, you know? It hurt a lot." Her voice had died to a whisper and he could see her tears in the pale light.

"No need to try and make me feel guilty," he answered slowly. "It is enough that I am going at all, instead of being with you and my family."

"You still are a selfish one, Anakin."

"I am, am I not?" he sighed, resting his head on his arms as he crossed them on the bed. 

Daala lay a hand lightly on his wrists, tracing the bones of his fingers gently. For a long time neither of them spoke, but each felt the seconds turn into long minutes as time passed them by, inevitably leading them towards the one point where they truly would have to part. Anakin did not know what else to say. He felt desolate and on edge. He was not afraid to die, not by far, but he was loath to leave all this behind. The peace he had found, the illusion of leading a normal life. It had been too good to last, hadn't it? Now he had one last mission to accomplish before he could give the responsibility over to his children and the new generation of Jedi. One last chance to righten some of the wrong he had done. There was so much more, but time was running out. 

He had outlived himself twice now. Twice he had faced death only to be called back into service. He smiled at that. He always came back. But this time, he was not so sure of that. Still, he would not go against the judge's decision. There had to be justice in some form, even though 'justice' was something that was very hard to grasp. If the people wanted him dead despite everything he had done over and over again to make amends, then he would die in the knowledge that he had not succeeded in easing their fears. That they did not trust him. In a way the certainty of having failed enraged Anakin despite knowing that he had done all that he could. When all was said and done he was only human, wasn't he? But people did not see him that way. They saw either a vicious monster or else a cold and heartless warlord.

"I have to go," he managed finally.

"Then go, my love. My heart is with you."

"I will keep it safe."

Rising slowly he bent forward to kiss her, their lips touching tentatively at first, but then the kiss continued with a greater passion, turning into an all-consuming fire that burned all the way into their souls. When Daala released him again Anakin stood rooted in place for a second, before he turned around abruptly, fleeing her presence as if one moment longer at her side would kill him. As he knew it would. A few minutes later he was gliding along the darkened hallways, a shadow among shadows, feeling the night close in around him. "Jix?" he whispered once he had reached the rooftop. The Corellian detached himself from the wall and joined him. "Let's go." Taking the lead again, Anakin strode over to the small orbit jumper they had borrowed and landed up here without attracting any notice.

"They will be looking for me already. We have to leave at once. Do you have a ship?"

"No."

"Then we will have to find another solution."

Turve Glat was rudely woken by his comm blaring at full volume in his office. He opened his bleary eyes in mid-snort, but became fully awake by the time the comm chimed for the fifth time. Running over he accepted the call: "Jellan," he wheezed, his vocal cords still half asleep. "Come over here at once. Vader is gone." Mouth hanging open Turve was unable to answer and Jellan did not wait for him to overcome his shock, disconnecting the call immediately, in the secure knowledge that the reporter was as good as already there. And really, it did not take him more than twenty minutes to get to the J.A.F. MediaGroup's headquarters and into the spacious office of his boss. Admittedly Turve was hanging in the doorway, panting loudly, but when he finally walked in he tried to compose himself into a more dignified slouch.

"Sit down," Jellan ordered curtly, eyes fixed on the screen of his datapad. "Apparently he did not leave alone. There is evidence that someone broke into his cell."

"When did that happen?"

"Almost an hour ago."

"An hour? They are really fast then if they are giving out information already," Turve commented innocently, but Jellan's cold gaze nailed him into his seat.

"This is unofficial as of yet, Turve. Keep it that way."

"But this is sensational!"

"And we do not want the NRI snooping around here, trying to find out how we could know before anyone else did."

"Sure, I understand," the reporter was quick to agree.

"Very good."

But the fact that he had stopped talking did not mean that Turve had stopped thinking also. Jellan must have some informant in the prison complex. Probably. But why call Turve now? He had this Jixton to take care of. Of course, if it had been Jixton who had broken into Vader's cozy retreat... Ah, this was turning into a true feast for an investigative reporter like himself, so unlike all that superficial stuff the J.A.F. usually produced. But once in a while such a grand story would come along and Turve's eyes started gleaming when he finished the thought. This was it, finally. The Tahnera Prize was his for sure. 

"I want you to get on Vader's trail, track him down. Keep us posted and we will give you a prime-time special any day you want. But don't lose them. I would advise you to start looking on Nar Shadaa. Just a hint."

"Yeah, he's still got his information brokerage office there."

"Indeed. You are the perfect man for this job, Turve. Just don't get yourself killed. This Jixton is dangerous and I don't have to tell you to watch yourself around Vader."

Turve barked a laugh: "No, not really."

"Good. Get to work and you can use the company account for your expenses. You know which one."

"Sure. Thank you. I'll be on my way then."

"Good hunting to you. I am counting on you, my man."

"Sure. See ya."

"Yes," Jellan said with a smile. "I will see you."

They were facing each other as they waited for the right opportunity to arrive. Warrior and assassin, both looking tired and worn. Despite the fact that it had been seven years since they had seen each other last, nothing seemed to have changed at all. Jix was following orders and Anakin was putting up with him. But there was something about this encounter that made it very special and somber. After they had left the prison, Anakin had led them up here, not knowing why at all until he realized that they could see the distant stars from here, something he had missed almost more than seeing Daala again. There was something about that night that reminded him of the desert. It was the feeling that although they sat so close together, both fugitives, they could just as well have been separated by a wall of ice. Each of them had been through a lot during the past years and even though Anakin had not yet asked Jix about it he knew that whatever had happened to the Corellian, it had shaken him badly and changed him too. Where he had been completely carefree before, confident in his abilities and unafraid to die, his aura felt much darker now.

"Are you going to ask or what?" Jix told him finally, his blue eyes flashing with annoyance.

"Only if you insist," Anakin shot back coolly.

"Still the same, I see."

"True. So, what happened? I sent you on a routine job. All I wanted you to do was to kill whoever was behind those slave trading deals on Ryloth. I assumed it was one of the Hutts. They usually were."

"It was a Hutt. You are right on target there."

"But? What was the problem?"

"I ran into a trap and was captured."

Raising his eyebrows slowly Anakin shook his head: "That was never something that could delay you for long."

"This time it was." Jix looked as if he had aged by decades in the matter of a few seconds.

"What happened?"

"You weren't aware of what you were getting me into, I guess, but I believe Palpatine knew all about it."

"He usually did. So, what was it?"

"It is huge. Imagine that there are some people who are loath to give up their positions. They have really good positions, mostly, connections everywhere. They are - like a huge club. They work with each other, favor each other, the whole stuff."

"You are talking corruption. That is nothing new."

"Not only corruption. Do you know that there was a major power failure threatening to black out Coruscant a few years back? Apparently there were not enough power generators. Fifteen new ones were built."

"Sounds reasonable."

"Yes, it does. But fact is that Coruscant had more than enough power at that time."

"What?"

"It was all fake. False alarm, to get a few companies more money, more profit."

"Creating your own markets. I see what you mean." 

Jix shook his head violently, putting his face very close to his: "You don't know half of it. There were experiments, drugs, viruses they developed. The famine four years back on Larus was no famine. The water was contaminated, famishing the people, destroying their crops, so Agracorp could open a new market there. Celltec was working on a new way for ''resocialization' of criminals. They stole their memories for their own ends."

"How do you know all this? Did they tell you?" The Corellian turned his head away again. "They did experiments on you too, am I right?" Anakin asked softly. Jix nodded with a sigh. 

"They tested a prototype on me. But first they had me walk through their latest security systems. When they found that I was too good at cracking them they implanted a chip in my brain. Now I have this dead alien in my head."

"What alien?"

"I don't know. He never told me his name. He is from the desert somewhere."

"The desert?"

"Yes, Is that important?"

"Maybe. So that chip is distracting you?"

"Our ... memories ... are like one. _We_ are one. It is ... strange."

"I know what you mean."

"Really? I doubt it."

"I was trying to be someone else when I thought I could redeem myself. But I am who I am, still the same, as you have spotted at first glance."

"Well, I know you."

"Yes, that you do. Which is why you came to me and not the New Republic, right?"

"They have infiltrated simply everything. You are the only one who can move in whatever way you chose. Fact is, your mind is about the only thing they can't control."

Anakin stared at him for a long time: "You do not know what you are saying, Jix. I am only human."

"Say that again, but this time without trying to make it sound as if you mean it, cause you don't. You told me you are still the same, Lord Vader. And if you truly are the Sith I remember, you have forgone your humanity for the sake of others."

"And how do you know that?"

"Because you are here with me instead of meekly awaiting your execution. Because I know that you don't give up. That's why."

Anakin did not answer at first. But then he leaned closer, reaching out to touch Jix' forehead. The Corellian flinched back at first, a move that shocked Anakin slightly. The agent had never been afraid of him before.

"I only want to take a look at that chip."

"Okay."

It was easy to find, the only non-organic matter in the other's brain, and Anakin could see almost immediately that there was no way to remove or deactivate it without killing Jix in the process. His mouth hardened slightly at the sight and at the feel of the thing. If Palpatine had had access to that technology earlier Luke would never have been able to call to his father on board the first Death Star and get through to him in time. And then the last missing piece of the puzzle his captivity on Byss was to him fell into place. He had been wondering for ages why the resurrected Emperor had kept another environment suit for him and why he had had him poisoned, if he had had real hopes of turning him back to the Dark Side again. In the light of these new facts it became clear that it had been another experiment, nothing more, to determine how Palpatine could control him more effectively and efficiently without leaving him any chance of escape. But something must have delayed the development of the transmitter-chip.

"It works only at short distances, am I right?" Jix nodded. "How could you escape then?"

"They did not think this through properly. By implanting the desert being's memories in the chip they had unknowingly inserted a virus in their own programme. He fought it and it hurt like hell, I'm telling ya. But he got us out that way."

"You do not know his name?"

"No. Do you?"

Anakin shook his head. There was a legend on Tatooine, one the Sand People told their young ones before they sent them to leave the clan on their journey into maturity. But it had been only words, right? Legends were not necessarily true. On the other hand, they had to have some point of origin too. Noone just came up with a story like that. It was a rite of death and rebirth the young Tusken Raiders had to go through and if they returned, with emphasis on the if, they would be full members of the clan. Anakin had heard the legend when he had been very little. Life, it said, was like the desert, without beginning or end. 

There were just the endless wastes under the vast canvas of the eternal sky, with the stars guarding the all. Noone knew what the young warriors experienced on their journey and little Anakin surely had not been allowed to try it out himself, even though he had insisted quite emphatically that his mother allow him to. He smiled at the memory of that particular discussion. He had ran outside, but had wisely stayed in sight of their hut. The desert had been very dark in the distance and there was nothing on the horizon but the stars, millions of them, as if frozen in a never-ending dance. As if time had been stolen and replaced by the mere moment. A moment that had held so much more than he could fathom at that age. It was only later that he realized what it meant. The past and future were merely states of time. But the present was forever. And in the desert all became one. 

"Lord Vader?"

Jix' voice broke into his world of thought brutally, waking him again to find himself back in the here and now, so much older and without the innocent mind of the child he had once been. There was no way back and none forth, he knew. There was only the moment and what he made of it.

"I am ready. Lead the way."

As Turve hastened onto the private landing pad atop the MediaGroup's headquarters' roof a few hours later he was too busy with carrying his luggage safely to the small yacht perched there to pay any heed to the two men watching him arrive. But it was kind of hard overlooking the tall, broad figure of Anakin Skywalker suddenly blocking his way. "Ngh!" the reporter managed before something that felt like the muzzle of a BlasTech was poked into his side. "You have the ship codes and special clearance, I assume," the Dark Lord told him amiably. "And I am sure that you would be very pleased to have some company on your otherwise very brief voyage to Nar Shadaa." Turve's eyes flicked toward the security cameras observing the roof constantly: "They are disabled," a familiar voice said from behind him and now he could be certain that the BlasTech belonged to Wrenga Jixton. Shrugging helplessly the reporter heaved a sigh: 

"Do I have a choice? No. So why don't we get on board."

"Yeah, let's," Jix snorted and pushed him forward.

"We are very grateful for your cooperation, Mister Glat." 

"You- " Turve snarled at the Sith, but thought better than to continue that sentence. The smile on the tall man's face was far too cold for that.

Once the three of them were crowded in the cockpit though his hands were shaking too much to work the controls. Without a moment of hesitation Jixton took over and Turve saw the Dark Lord flinch. Interesting. He watched Vader tense even more when the Corellian lifted the ship off the landing pad easily, wondering. Obviously they knew each other well. And from Vader's reaction he could only conclude that Jixton was a miserable pilot. Oh gods. What had he gotten himself into?

Relaxing a bit Anakin refrained from ordering Jix out of the pilot's chair. He was doing well so far and chances were that he had learned a few things over the past years. Like piloting a ship. Jix had changed, definitely, and not only his hairstyle. It had been quite a shock to see the agent with that short, nearly white hair instead of the long, dark mane he had sported before. But they all had to bring sacrifices for this mission. Anakin smiled to himself a bit, but then he remembered that he still had had no time to ask the Corellian just where he had been over the last seven years. There was a feeling though, that told him to wait a bit before asking him about it. It had been so long, and they were not the same anymore. Not at all.

When he noticed a New Republic warship coming at them he leaned forward, tapping Glat's shoulder lightly. The reporter jumped, but caught himself quickly.

"I am not certain if my clearance is valid even now. I mean, this is a very special occasion."

"You mean the state of emergency that the planet was put under?"

"Yes. They think that you are still down there somewhere. And I can understand that they would not want you running around loose."

"Then they should have killed me when they had the chance to. If that ship sends a few officials over try to stay calm. If you don't, I fear we will have to part with your charming company."

"Understood."

"Good. Just relax and nothing will happen to you."

"They are hailing us."

"Then answer."

"Hello? What can I do for you?" In the pilot's seat Jix was rolling his eyes in disgust.

"Yes? Of course. No, I understand. I will, sure. Okay." Disconnecting the call Turve leaned back, his face pasty-white. "They are coming over."

"Alright." Rising slowly Anakin mustered the ship ahead, assessing possible escape routes, just in case. They would have a free run at the jump point for Duro and from there they could get to Nar Shadaa easily. No need to worry. "Take over here, Mister Glat. And remember, just stay calm. Jix and I will be back there."

"What if they spot you nevertheless?"

Anakin merely smiled at him.

Turve was wringing his hands, trying to stop sweating, but found that he could not. He was afraid, he had to admit, very much so. True, he had wanted the story, and maybe he had even wanted an adventure, but this was getting nasty. Perhaps he should try to get out of here after all. The New Republic ship had pulled them into one of their hangar bays and the engines were powered down, as were their weapons. If they discovered his two passengers they would stand no chance to escape. Then, on the other hand, he did not put it past the Sith to simply blow out of there, no matter what. When the first inspector showed himself at the landing ramp Turve forced a smile on his lips. 

"Welcome."

"Yeah, yeah. This ship is registered to the J.A.F. MediaGroup. Your user license please."

He produced the chip instantly, still smiling.

"Seems okay, Mind if we have a look around?"

"No, no. Go ahead." _They are back there._

The inspector gave him a quizzical glance. 

"Are you trying to tell me something?" he asked finally, trying to make sense of the words Turve was mouthing silently at him. The reporter turned red with anger and humiliation. But by then two more officers had come aboard.

"Just watch your step," he growled, waving them toward the aft hold.

And finally the other man got it. He raised his eyebrows in surprise, then nodded. With a flick of his hand he brought his commlink up, but he never got a chance to use it. The landing hatch slammed shut very suddenly, startling the three inspectors for a second, and that was all the time Wrenga Jixton needed. When everything was over Turve stared at the three bodies lying at his feet, white-faced. "Come on," Jixton ordered coldly, pointing toward the cockpit. "Better strap in."

They joined the Dark Lord moments later, as the ship was already lurching forward, headed for open space. Vader's gaze was fixed ahead, but his words flowed over Turve's back like ice when he said: 

"One chance left, Mister Glat."

Finally Turve found his voice again: "You are mad! Both of you! You killed them!"

"You knew what you were getting yourself into. And now sit down and shut up. This might get a little bit rough. Jix, watch the shields."

Five hours later the New Republic government had to admit that the Dark Lord had escaped custody and Leia was already on her way to the NRI headquarters when Luke caught up with her. They walked the bleak corridors side by side, each staring ahead and keeping silent. She had already worked out a plan of action together with Fey'lya and they would hit the Senate today. The fact that her father had vanished would give her a very good excuse to extend the state of emergency and would give her free leave to make a few changes. Morally it was not the right way to do it, she was well aware of that, but her enemies had no moral to speak of. Which was no excuse either. Biting her lower lip in furious concentration Leia tried to think of a way out of this dilemma, but it was a useless effort.

Fey'lya and she had been hard-pressed as it was to come up with a moderate solution. There would be new standards and new auditionings, new regulations and new investigations. There would be changes elsewhere. Of course she was very aware of the consequences. People would accuse her of following her father's path, and of course there would have to be more regulations concerning the head of state and her powers too. It was not so much a concession on her part than an insurance for the people, Leia thought. Few would see it that way though. Still, she could not please everyone but herself. 

Rounding a corner the twins were welcomed by Admirals Palleon and Ackbar, both looking nervous. Leia gave the two of them a sharp nod: 

"Is she still in there?"

"Yes," Palleon answered smoothly. "And she does not know a thing, as expected."

Leia shook her head with a smile. It was only natural for the former Imperial that he was trying to protect her father, but he needn't have bothered to hide his efforts in front of them. The fact that he did concerned Leia though. If he did not even trust her... 

"Maybe you are not asking the right questions. Gentlemen, please."

"After you, ma'am."

"Thank you."

They filed into the interrogation room one by one and Gita Deron did look a bit harassed, sitting very straight on her chair, her eyes gleaming with lack of sleep.

"Master Skywalker, Madam President. An honor."

"Miss Deron, I will be brief. I am sure that my father did not mention anything of his plans to you, but I am also certain that you had some suspicions. A man visited me two days ago, asking me if I could help him get to my father. I had to deny him my help, but he told me a few very interesting facts."

"Was his name Wrenga Jixton?" Gita asked slowly.

"He did not introduce himself. Why?"

"Because Turve Glat was in contact with him. And apparently this Jixton was eager to meet with your father too."

"There might be a connection there. Anything else you can tell me about this man?"

"He worked for your father and he knew something he wanted your father to get notice of. I assume that it was that news that prompted him to go into hiding."

"Then we are talking about the same man. Chances are that they have left the planet together. And they took Turve Glat with them."

"What?"

"A ship registered to the J.A.F. MediaGroup was inspected five hours ago and the sole passenger was Mister Glat. The ship escaped, the investigators are reported missing, and I think we all can draw our conclusions here."

"Yes, I see. But what do they want with Glat?"

"I do not know. But I know that I will need your help."

Looking up from her desk Firek Nab gave the newcomer a long, hard look. "Can I help you?" she asked, her musical voice filling the room with strange echoes. The man stepped forward, further into the light and a low hiss escaped the Bith's mouth. 

"You here? That is unexpected."

"Is it?" Placing his slender hands on the top of her desk he leaned forward, a smile on his lips. Firek leaned back instinctively. "You did not do as we told you to."

"I had no choice."

"You did have a choice, my dear. But you chose to ignore it."

"Haven't I heard that line before?" she whispered wearily. 

"I am sure you did. The trial was very interesting and in fact I was a bit surprised at the sentence, not only because we had arranged for something else originally."

"He is too dangerous to keep alive."

"And now he is gone."

"What?" Her startled whistle made him flinch. But he rallied immediately, shaking his head slowly:

"What a tiny world you must be living in inside your head. Did you not listen to the news?"

"No. They are distracting."

"Well. Fact is, he is gone and we cannot control him. Had you done as we asked he would be no problem and we would have another foot in the door, so to speak."

"I do not care for your enterprises," she hissed.

"But you should. They are paying your wages too, after all. And don't tell me that you serve justice, Firek Nab, because that is a lie."

Finally the Bith gave up trying to postpone the inevitable any longer. She rose with a sigh and came around her desk with measured steps. He spread out his arms with a smile and it was an almost tender gesture, one of welcome. But Firek knew that it meant death for her. "Joy to you, Loaz," she whispered and leaned towards him. When his hands touched her shoulders she started shaking violently, but in the matter of moments there was nothing left to wonder about what was happening. Gently depositing her body on the floor Loaz closed his eyes in satisfaction. It would take them some time to find her and by then he would be gone again. As if he had never been there at all.

Turve sat nervously in the rec couch, glancing at Jixton wide-eyed. The Corellian was calmly leaning in the doorway, his arms crossed in front of his chest, one foot propped up against the wall. Finally the door slid open to reveal the imposing figure of Anakin Skywalker. He nodded at Jixton, then vanished back into the galley. "What did he do with them?" Turve asked finally. "Threw them out of the air-lock. A pity he refused to let me do the same with you." Jixton gave him a cold smile.

The reporter swallowed hard. They had reached Hutt space a few hours ago, but the Dark Lord was hesitant to go to Nar Shadaa right now. He had not given them any specific reasons, but some seemed clear. Nar Shadaa was the first place anyone would go looking for him. Even Jellan had known that. And the NRI would know it too. Then why were they here at all? 

"Jix! Get over here!"

The Corellian shot a warning glance at the reporter before he vanished too. Great. It was just great. He was trapped on his own ship with two madmen and he had no way of calling for help. But hey, on the other hand, should he survive this he would have quite a story for the prime-time version of Coruscant Daily. If. He could hear them discuss quietly, their voices no more than hushed whispers. Turve would give much to learn what it was they were talking about in there. He had the distinct feeling that they would not let him in on their plan, even if he asked nicely.

"Glat! In here!"

Jumping at the snarled order Turve scrambled to his feet and ran over to the galley, where the two men were waiting for him. They looked like twin mirrors, both leaning against the board, their arms crossed in front of their chest, blue eyes regarding him unblinking. Frankly he could see no difference at all, except maybe for appearance. But even though Jixton was head and shoulders shorter than Skywalker he by no means seemed demure in comparison to the Sith. Those two were deadly, there was no doubt about it.

"Yes? Can I help you?"

"Actually you can," Skywalker told him, waving him in. "The New Republic will undoubtedly send a team on our trail. They will root around in my office on Nar Shadaa. As you would have too." Turve managed a squeak, but refrained from answering to the unspoken question. "So, if we land this ship there now we are as good as dead. But we will do so anyway."

"What?" Glat croaked, disbelieving. "Why?"

"Because there might be some urgent messages that were sent to my private account on my datapad there. They will try to crack the codes and to do so they will take the datapad with them. I want you to find out where they are taking it."

"And you think they will trust me?"

"No. I think they will lead you astray, sensing that I am behind your request. And while they are busy Jix and I will access the account from elsewhere."

"But if they have the datapad..."

"Who ever said it was the right one? So, you are given no choice really. Try to stay alive

and good luck to all of us. Strap in. We are leaving." 

Sitting in the copilot's chair Jix was watching the readouts intently. There was no unusual activity going on around Nar Shadaa, at least not more unusual than was common on the Smuggler's Moon. He did not know how Vader was planning to get past the New Republic troops that would undoubtedly be waiting for them. But he trusted the man completely. The Dark Lord always got his way and this time would be no different. When the Sith hissed between clenched teeth very suddenly, Jix turned to look at him. 

"What is it?"

"Jedi."

"Your son?"

"No. He sent someone else."

He was sitting cross-legged on the floor, ignoring Mara's intent gaze on him. A room apart he could feel Kam and Tionne practicing with Kirana Ti and Streen. There was no way he could start looking for new apprentices right now, not with the discussion about the Jedi and controlling them rising up again. Leia had come down hard on any senator who even dared to think of proposing another ban, but Luke knew that another round in this battle was inevitable. It would be Tionne's turn to take up the fight this time. And he trusted the silver-haired Knight to do the right thing. She had a great insight into people and the history of the Jedi. But on the other hand there were others among the new order who would only distract people from Tionne's arguments. 

And so Luke had taken the opportunity to achieve two goals at once by ordering Gantoris and Kyp off with the special ops team the New Republic had dispatched for Nar Shadaa. They had left a few days ago, both well aware of the reasons why the mission was given to them alone. But this way the Jedi could demonstrate their willingness to help and the two Jedi Knights who had been the whole reason the discussion about the Jedi's autonomy had been sparked in the first place were conveniently out of the picture for the time being. Luke felt that his sister was having a bad influence on him. He was turning into a politician. A strategist, his father would insist. How Anakin would react to the two Jedi's presence on Nar Shadaa he did not know, but he was certain that he would not harm them. And if he did, Kyp and Gantoris were very capable of taking care of themselves. Luke did not want his father to get hurt, but he still vividly remembered his uncontrolled attack back in the prison complex when he had heard of Daala's injury.

Fact was that Anakin would push his plan through no matter what.

He strode down the landing ramp slowly, deliberately, taking his time. His face was a mask of boredom with a bit of arrogance shining through. But Anakin knew very well that the twenty or so troopers assembled in the hurriedly cleared hangar bay would not hesitate to attack if given leave. They did not want to take any chances, he could feel that clearly. Of course, they were not the ones he had to worry about. It was the two men standing a bit apart, one short and wiry, the other tall and muscular, but both dark-haired and blue-eyed. Kyp and Gantoris were watching him with keen eyes, and Anakin was sure that there was no fear coming from them. They had faced him twice in battle and lost, but they had also learned a lot in those encounters. And one thing was that he would not kill them in cold blood. Behind him, half-hidden by the ship's entrance, Jix was observing the New Republic soldiers and the Jedi Lord could feel the Corellian tense slightly, poised for action.

"Now," he announced calmly, his rough voice ripping through the terse silence like the sound of ice cracking against ice in the Northern seas of Hoth. "We can do this the hard way or the easy way. Either you let us pass or else you will die."

"Our orders were specific, Lord Skywalker. We are to escort you back to Coruscant."

He shook his head at the brave lieutenant who had stepped forward to address him directly. "I will be back in twenty-five days. Until then, do not interfere. For your own sake."

"Lord Skywalker," Gantoris said suddenly, walking towards him with Kyp in tow. "It is customary for the convicted to remain in custody until the sentence is executed. There can be no exception for you."

"Oh yes, there can be. _I_ am making that exception and I would advise you not to stand in my way."

"That we cannot do. It is our duty to protect these men and they will not back down."

"So be it," Anakin snarled, truly angry. 

But it was not him who moved first. Jix came charging out of the ship at high speed and before the soldiers realized that the threat was not coming from the tall warrior standing at the ramp it was too late already. It was good to see that the Corellian had lost none of his skills, despite whatever had happened to him. And maybe it was a sort of release too. Turning towards Kyp and Gantoris the Jedi Lord moved to block their way elegantly. Both were determined to not let him get the better of them this time, but Anakin would be damned if he gave them any chance. 

Spreading out his hands he showed them that he was unarmed, prompting them to ignite their lightsabers in unison. They knew him well. He did not need any weapon to defend himself. Or to attack. Shielding his presence in the Force he feinted at Gantoris first, then moved toward Kyp only to reverse his steps again and jab an elbow into the older Knight's throat. Gantoris stumbled back, but not without slashing at Anakin first. By then Kyp had already reached him, his blade arching at his shoulder. As Anakin stepped back Kyp lashed out with his left leg, hooked it around the other's ankles and dropped him to the floor. Hitting the deck with a laugh Anakin half-rose to smile up at the young man with some pride. "You have learned, I see," he told him pleasantly before slamming a wall of air into him. He jumped straight up, aiming a kick a Gantoris that left them both on the floor. 

From then on the two Knights moved more cautiously and Anakin had a hard time predicting their movements. They worked as a team easily and their lightsabers gave them a slight edge when it came to keeping him at a safer distance. In the background Anakin was aware of the battle between Jix and the New Republic soldiers entering the critical stage and decided to risk a bit more. Moving in between Kyp and Gantoris he was intent on knocking them both out at once. But somehow he had misjudged and over-stepped the invisible line he had drawn for himself just slightly. 

Immediately Gantoris used his overbalanced position to push him against the wall hard. As Anakin bounced off again he almost flinched when Kyp's blade impaled itself in the wall right in front of his face. Drawing back he was just barely able to evade Gantoris' lightsaber. He turned his back to the wall, trying to escape, but the two lightsabers formed a sparking cross that trapped his head and neck effectively. If he tried to move any further, either up, down, forward or any other way, he would die. The waves of satisfaction and pride rolling off both Gantoris and Kyp only served to fuel his anger. Still, there was nothing he could do right now. Across from him he could see Jix smile and shake his head at him. 

"Lord Skywalker, please. We do not want to hurt you any more than necessary," Kyp tried soothingly. 

"No? A pity," Anakin hissed back.

For a split-second his comment startled the two and he used that moment fully to hurl both of them straight up. They came back down in an easy roll not too far away, but he did not let them recover. Slamming the Force into them again and again Anakin did not stop before both were too dazed to move. He bent over Kyp's half-conscious form threateningly: "Stay out of my way. This is your only warning." Waving Jix on he turned to leave. Time to accomplish what they were really here for. 


	5. Truth or Dare

Turve Glat was standing in the ship's entrance, watching the battle open-mouthed. He was not certain if he should rather be following Jixton's progress or the fight going on between the three Jedi. Damn! Why didn't he have his recorder with him! This would be so perfect... Ah. No sense in mourning his loss. Time to get out of here. Grabbing his backpack Turve sidled down the landing ramp and edged towards the wall, as far from the shooting as he could. Across the melee of New Republic soldiers trying to hit Jixton instead of themselves, he could see the Dark Lord in a hot corner. But he managed to get out of there quite elegantly. Nevertheless Turve was at the hangar bay doors before the two Knights could hit the floor. Only to find them locked down.

"Hey!" he yelled at the top of his lungs. "Open up!"

"Going somewhere?" 

Turning around Turve shied away from Jixton's cold, blue eyes and his mocking smile. At the Corellian's side the Dark Lord bore a grim expression on his face.

"It is... closed," he explained, quite unnecessarily.

"You don't say. Then let us open it really fast."

Whipping out his blaster Jixton aimed a shot at the lock, frying the wires. He put the weapon back in its holster and bent forward to short-circuit the door. 

"Stand back," Vader ordered coldly as it opened up.

Jixton immediately took cover behind the wall, but Turve was frozen in place, unsure of what was going on. The contingent of troopers on the other side of the door let him make a decision fast. He joined the Corellian hurriedly, while the Dark Lord waved a hand at the mess behind him where the soldiers were slowly getting to their feet, or at least those of themwho still could.

"Now. There are two ways we can go about this. First, you retreat nice and slow, or second ... I don't think I have to make this any clearer, do I?"

The sergeant heading this group gave him a nod and gestured towards his troops. They took a few steps back, clearing the way slowly.

"Thank you."

Pacing her office Leia had her hands crossed behind her back. She should be proud of herself. The Senate had agreed to most of her conditions and Gita Deron was already busy with investigating the more prominent incidents. But that small victory could not lighten up the shadows that lay heavily over her and her family. Han was so good, enduring her moody outbursts patiently, and the times when she would be simply staring out of the window thinking very dark thoughts, he would be just there somewhere, taking care of everything and giving her the feeling that she could come to him at any time and simply spill her heart out. Which she had done quite frequently in the past days, and she had a guilty conscience for her trouble too. 

Biting her lower lip Leia shook her head furiously. She was getting as bad as her father, wanting to have everything under her control. And the fact that Anakin was out of her reach made her hands itch. How dare he run off like that? Of course she was pretty certain that he was on the trail of the same people she was after herself, but he would make a mess out of this. Like he did every time. Anakin Skywalker always wanted things to work his way and he usually succeeded, no doubt about that. At first it would look truly brilliant, but in the end it would only spawn more trouble. For him, that was. 

His taking responsibility for everything made him vulnerable to attack, something he did not seem to have realized. And in a way it was not something he needed to pay any heed to either, for he was always the stronger. But now he was in too deep for escape or victory. The last consequence of his sense of duty was his own death. It seemed the logical step and maybe it had been a rather unconscious decision. What her father truly desired, Leia knew, was freedom. Understandable, for a man who had known nothing but what other people thought he should be doing. As a child he had been a slave and as a young man he had been in another sort of captivity, one that did not allow him to do what he wanted either. Maybe his marriage had been his attempt at escape. And then his life had taken another turn. Oh yes. Palpatine had known very well just how to captivate the young Jedi Knight. What to promise him.

Leia sighed deeply. It was just that she was under so much pressure. Of course, Anakin's flight was occupying all of the media's interest, which was not so bad. But she had no idea where her enemies were hiding and what they were capable of. It would be easier just to let Anakin deal with it. And on the other hand she did not want to always have to depend on him. She was President of the New Republic and it was time that people realized that too. 

"Luke?" He stood at the window of the living-room of their apartment, hugging himself tightly. But the sound of Mara's voice brought him out of his dark broodings instantly. Turning towards her with a smile the Jedi Master indicated the couch, urging her to take a seat. She complied without saying a word, simply waited for him to join her. But he preferred to remain standing. 

"What is it? You left so abruptly. Everyone's been asking me about you... They are worried." Luke simply shrugged before answering: 

"I guess I am just a bit down because of all ... this."

"You father did not contact you then?"

He barked a short laugh and then his eyes focused into the distance, scaring her. But a shake of his head brought a light into their blue depths again:

"He did, in a way."

"What did he say?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing? I don't understand..."

Dropping into the couch next to her Luke started stroking her shoulder before he turned away again. But Mara could hear the tiny sigh he had been trying to hide from her. Finally he seemed to have made up his mind. His eyes cast down to the floor he began anew, his voice taking on a somber tone:

"It is just a feeling."

"What feeling?"

When he raised his head to look at her Mara felt her throat tighten at the sadness in his eyes.

"That he won't come back." 

He could see the shock plain on her face, but suddenly her expression turned grim.

"What is that to you, Luke? By now you should already have gotten used to this. He has died twice and I remember the last time clearly. You were devastated because he was going places you could not be. Why are you trying to hold him close when all he desires is his freedom?"

Luke swallowed hard. He wanted to shake his head in denial, but in a way what Mara had said was too close to what he knew was the truth. For years he had been dreaming of his father, any father, and when he had found him at last it had turned out that he was not what Luke had imagined him to be. But he had kept his faith and it had made him win in the end. Still, his victory had not given him what he had wanted. Anakin had died and Luke had mourned his loss for the hours, days and years they could not spend together, making up for all the time that had passed them by, each walking their own path, living their own lives. And then Anakin had returned. And once again Luke had found that his father was very different from what he needed him to be. He was no example to him and he could offer no guidance. He was doing whatever he chose to do and although Anakin surely saw to protecting his children and showing them that he loved his family dearly, he still remained apart. 

And not so long ago he had advised his son to keep his distance too. But Luke would not have it. When his father had agreed to the trial he had at first suspected another brilliant move on his part. For his inaction and the way he had carried himself in the court-room had made it clear, to Luke, that Anakin was planning on playing the public sentiments in his favor. Now though he had realized that his father had meant every word he had said to his son back in his prison. When Luke had offered to teach him he had refused, knowing full well that this lesson came far too late. And he would not force his father to change either. Not that he could have in any case. 

"Luke," Mara began anew. "Let me tell you a story I heard when I was very little. I do not remember much of my parents, but I remember this tale my mother told me often. Maybe she was afraid for me, maybe she knew that my Force potential could doom me. Whatever it was that made her tell me this, I never forgot. It is a child's tale, so don't laugh," she threatened when Luke began to smile. 

He spread his hands in an appeasing gesture, shrugging easily: "I promise. Go ahead. I am anxious to hear it."

"Alright. A long, long time ago in a land far away a man uncovered the grave of a dragon-slayer close to his village in a small village in the high mountains. The warrior's armor and sword had been preserved, but nothing else was left of him. The man who had found the grave was overjoyed. He tried a few strokes with the sword and watched it slide through the air elegantly. After a while the villagers gathered around him, and watched in awe, as he put on the armor."

"I get it. By putting on the armor and taking the sword he pretended to be someone he wasn't."

Mara gave him a withering stare: "I can see that you are not prepared to listen."

"No, no. Go on. It is ... interesting."

She snorted in disgust, but continued:"Well then, the villagers wanted to be just like him and made armor out of animal skins and swords out of branches. They entered in mock duels, generally having a good time about it. But the man who had found the warrior's grave grew thoughtful. He had been declared leader of the village and of course he wanted to be true to that responsibility. And he believed that the neighboring villages might fear that they would soon fall upon them and would try to obtain real arms in preparation of a preemptive strike. And if they did the villagers would stand no chance. So the man ordered the blacksmith to create real swords and asked the tanners to make real armor so that they would be prepared. Can you guess what happened next, my wise Jedi Master?"

"They went to war."

"Exactly."

"How did it end?"

"Impatient after all?" she threw him a quick smile. "Well, it is a bit...involved...but in essence the man who had gone astray from his peaceful life was tested, and they were trying to get him to become a master of himself. But they did not quite succeed. In the end he was locked up for a long time until a wise man released him again, but put him under a spell of compassion."

"Who is 'they'?"

"The wise ones."

"Not as wise as the one in the end, right?"

"No."

"Then I have failed? Is that what you are trying to tell me?"

"No, Luke, not at all. You tried all you could. But your father _is_ master of himself, of his fate. He is the wise man in the story and he has to make the right choice."

"But death..."

"Might be something else for him than it is for you, my dear."

Wrenga Jixton was jogging after the Dark Lord easily, keeping his eyes open to scan the darker corners of the underground. Nar Shadaa was a dangerous place, for everyone. But Vader was simply striding ahead, his head held high, walking with as much energy and purpose as he remembered him from seven years ago. Turve Glat was tagging along, but Jix had the distinct feeling that this would not hold for long. 

"Is it very far?" the reporter yelled.

"Shut up!" Jix hissed back, half-turning towards him.

Falling silent again Glat quickened his pace noticably. Not that the Corellian cared about that at all. If it were for him they could just as well lose the man, and better sooner than later. He had no idea if the New Republic soldiers were following them or not, but he was certain that the two Jedi would not give up easily. What if they encountered them again? The Dark Lord had seemed hard-pressed back there, that was for sure. On the other hand Jix could not quite believe that he had lost any of his poise. But then, they were both older now. Seven years. Seven years of cursing Vader whole-heartedly whenever he could get his mind off more immediate problems. And still he could feel that bond between them. 

When he had first met the Dark Lord it had been hate at first sight. And Jix had been lucky to survive that encounter. But he would rather have died than be court-martialed and sentenced to Kessel for refusing to follow orders. Orders that had been as inhuman as the Sith. Once Jix had made his escape from the prison colony on Kessel he had sworn revenge. And still. Their second encounter had been more than strange. Vader had been injured and unconscious when the Corellian had found him on the remote world of Aridus. Killing him had been very tempting then, but Jix was no fool. He had knelt at the Dark Lord's side for a long time, regarding his pale, scarred face steadily. What he had found there was the fact that the Sith was only human, and there were always weaknesses to be exploited there.

Additionally, Jix had reasoned, if he could convince him to working together he would most certainly live longer. And so they had made a deal. One that had benefited both of them. Over time Jix' hatred had turned into a mixture of fondness and caution. Vader was like a viper. It was nice to watch him move as sly and deadly as he did, but one should always be on the safe side with him because there was no telling where he might strike. Jix remembered each one of their encounters that had been more frequent from that time on. He had always insisted on his independence and the Dark Lord had granted it, if it made accomplishing his missions more efficient. And Jix had know that there was a grudging admiration for his talents on the Sith's part. In short: as contradictory as their relationship had been, both had known that they could depend on each other.

The way they did now. The only difference, maybe, was that they had met back on Coruscant on more equal terms. There were things Jix knew that Vader did not, and the Dark Lord's current state made him more vulnerable than Jix remembered him. And despite that he was the only one Jix could trust with this. That he had to ask for assistance at all was humiliating in a way, but the Corellian knew that Vader would understand. 

"We are here."

Jix slipped to the right, covering the only corridor leading into this particular chamber apart from the one they had used to get in here. He nodded at the Dark Lord, indicating that all was clear. Vader smiled at him, and that simple gesture reminded Jix that there was still a vast difference between them after all. Of course the Sith could just as well sweep their surroundings using the Force. On the other hand it might be wiser not to, with those two Jedi running around searching for them. 

"Mister Glat," Vader said, waving the reporter closer.

"Yes?"

"You see this corridor? It will lead you into an apartment complex. Go to Number 337, but take your time. We don't want you there ahead of the New Republic troops. Tell them that you found the place on your own. You are an investigator, after all. You know the rest. Is there anything else?" he added, raising his eyebrows coolly. 

Turve Glat shrugged: 

"Yes, actually. Why should I help you at all?"

"You are not helping us, Mister Glat. You are a distraction, nothing more."

"Great. That's all I wanted to know."

"Then this is where we part, Mister Glat. I hope that for your sake you will never have to see us again."

Throwing the reporter a mocking salute Vader strode off into the direction they had come. Jix grinned at Glat's perplexed expression. "See ya, _Mister_ Glat," he purred, imitating the Dark Lord's ironic words, and turned away to follow the other man.

Closing his eyes Turve heaved a deep sigh that turned into a relieved yelp, before he darted away, determined on finding the next public comm station there was. Sithspawn! This was big, this was really, really big. He was trembling with excitement and fear. Oh my stars! Running faster he passed the apartments, hunting around for a comm. Why the hell had Jixton insisted on destroying his anyway? Yeah, of course he knew why. But the gall of the man to deprive a reporter of his most important tool! Actually his rage over the Corellian's impertinence made Turve almost forget the dangers lurking everywhere. He ploughed through the city like a small steam engine, fuming with righteous anger. Maybe it was the fierce expression that had fixed itself on his face that kept predators of any shape away from him, and maybe it was something else entirely. Whatever it was it let him arrive at his destination unmolested. 

The public comm was situated in a seedy tapcafé, not far from one of the city's major boulevards. 

Turve called up Jellan's code quickly and waited for the image to turn a little less grainy. But apparently the equipment was in as bad shape as the whole establishment, and he huffed a small, indignant sigh in the direction of one of the waiters bustling around the bar in the far corner. Finally his boss was on the line and the man's face lit up spectacularly at the sight of Turve Glat.

"Hey, good to see you around, How are you?"

"You heard what happened?"

"Supposedly you were kidnapped."

"You bet. They let me go and now they want me to do a few things for them. But that's not really the reason for my call. You promised me a few minutes on Coruscant Daily?"

"Yeah, yeah. Go ahead." Jellan flicked a few buttons on his receiver to get a recording. "A shame the image is so bad, but maybe we can touch it up a bit."

"Ready? Alright." Composing his face in a more dignified fashion the reporter began solemnly: " This is Turve Glat reporting live from Nar Shadaa...." 

Once he was finished a hopeful smile appeared on his lips: "Whaddya think?"

Jellan gave him a thumbs-up: "It's perfect. Keep me posted. And, Turve, where did you say they would be going next?"

"Err, I don't know..."

"Then try to find out, okay? But keep out of their way. We don't want to lose you, right?"

"Right." Turve answered, relief plain in his tone. "Thank you."

As the connection broke, his smile faded gradually. Find out where they would be headed to next? This should prove a bit more difficult. Damn! He should really be leaving for Vader's office now or else he might get into more trouble than he was already in. When a hand fell heavily on his shoulder he jumped with a small scream. Whirling around in his seat he stared up at the two men looking down at him and almost choked. 

"Can I help you?"

Anakin knelt down next to the small grating that was half-hidden behind rubbish and broken down furniture. He found the wires and cables quickly and it took him less than three minutes to rig them together correctly. That done, he turned around to leave, throwing a last look over the abandoned apartment. If his timing was correct the New Republic troops would just at this moment be searching his office a few levels down. He left with a small smile on his lips to rejoin Jix at the other end of the corridor next to a public comm. 

"Is everything alright?"

"Noone around and that thing is clear too."

"Good."

Leaning over the keypad attached to the comm Anakin did not bother to hide the code from Jix. They would do this together, after all, and there was no need to keep secrets from each other either. Fifteen messages had piled up on his account over the past months, but there were only two that seemed of any importance. One was a little bit older, a few weeks, and it had been sent from a public comm too. It was a message from Jix, asking to meet with him on Nar Shadaa. Anakin threw the agent a quick smile and deleted the message. The other one though had been sent by Talon Karrde. Which was unusual in itself, since the smuggler would never use this account to contact Anakin. According to the date the message had been received exactly one week ago. The Dark Lord hesitated before opening it, and for a moment he let his mind drift, searching their surroundings. He could not find anything unusual though, which did not really mean a thing.

"Trouble?" Jix asked quietly and Anakin could hear him unholster one of his blasters.

"Maybe. Stay sharp."

Opening the message he stared at the blank screen, trying to make any sense of it. Then a tiny blinking image at the bottom of the message caught his eye. Activating the program he resorted to waiting, despite the fact that his instincts told him vehemently to leave. But he wanted to get to the bottom of this. When the face of a middle-aged man suddenly swirled into existence on the screen Anakin was slightly taken aback, but he knew how to hide his surprise well. The stranger gave him a business-like smile that never touched his eyes.

"Ah, Lord Vader. I had hoped for you to receive this message. There is much you and I have to talk about."

Only when the man fell politely silent did Anakin realize that this was no recorded message but a live link. What was all this about?

"I would not know what there is to tell you, whoever you might be."

"Really? Nothing? Of course, circumstances are a bit different from what we had anticipated. Still, I am certain we can still find a solution that would benefit all of us."

"I doubt it," Anakin hissed. "I know who you are and trust me, I will hunt you down."

"You can certainly try, Lord Vader, but where to look? We are simply everywhere. Ask your friend, Wrenga Jixton. He knows what I am talking about."

"He has told me enough."

"Then you must realize that this is a futile effort on your part."

Abruptly the connection broke and Anakin stared down at Jix' hand dumb-founded. His gaze travelling up the agent's right arm he met the other's calm blue eyes angrily.

"He was stalling for time. Come on. We gotta go." 

Jix was right, of course. What had he been thinking, throwing empty threats at his opponent at a time like this? 

"I was a fool," he admitted finally, walking down the ramp to the next floor at the Corellian's side. Jix shook his head slowly:

"Not at all. But you have to learn how to play this game on another level to survive."

"What do you mean?"

"What I mean is that you don't have the Imperial or New Republic Navy at your back anymore. You have to work smaller, so to say."

"I see."

"Good. Welcome to the real world, Lord Vader."

"Where do we go next?"

"Depends on what you think is best. We cannot run after them and ferret them out one by one. Perhaps it would be best to strike at the heart."

"And where would that be?"

"Ylesia."

"Just you and me? Are you certain?"

"Hey," Jix said with a smile, "it's us, after all."

Anakin barked a sharp laugh, shaking his head in quiet amusement. But it was good to see Jix regaining his confidence so easily. And it was true: they could handle this on their own and they had to. If they asked the New Republic for help there was no telling what the 'club' might do to get them out of their way in time. And, besides, if they had managed to even infiltrate Karrde's organization, chances were that they had infiltrated the New Republic military too. No, they truly were alone in this. 

When Jix suddenly darted ahead, his mouth set in a grim line, Anakin started in surprise. A rare occurrence, but one that should worry him immensely. Rounding the corner the Corellian had vanished behind, Anakin stopped short, raising his eyebrows in admiration.

"You knocked out a Jedi Knight, Jix. I am impressed. And where is the other one?"

Straightening up from an unconscious Gantoris Jix opened his mouth to reply, but the slight widening of his eyes forestalled any answer. By the time Anakin was moving he already felt the searing blade of Kyp Durron's lightsaber arch towards him. It caught him across the shoulders and when he came around fully the tip of the laser-sword hooked around his neck, forcing him to retreat against the wall. 

"Step back or else your friend is dead," he heard Jix hiss and the young Jedi's blue eyes flickered with doubt for a second.

"There is no need for any hostility," Anakin tried soothingly, but his gaze was fixed on the other's face. He had taught them how to shield their presence in the Force and in hindsight that lesson may have been a mistake. 

"Lord Skywalker, I truly hate having to repeat myself, but you are coming with us. Now. Please," Kyp added in response to the Dark Lord's cold smile.

"No way. Keep out of this and you will survive. I would truly regret having to kill you two."

"Why? Why do you have to be here?"

"We have to move very quickly, and the smaller our numbers the better our chances that the enemy will underestimate the forces assembled against them."

"Who is this enemy?"

"Businessmen, politicians, you name it. They have power and they want to keep it."

Kyp frowned at him: "Your daughter is on their trail, I believe."

"Good. Then tell her to increase her efforts, so she will be prepared in case Jix and I fail."

"Fail!" Durron barked, sounding incredulous. "You will not fail. But we can join you."

"No. You two keep out of this. Luke sent you after me for a reason. If you attract any more public interest now you might not survive this time."

The young Jedi stared at him for a long time before he nodded. Retrieving his blade Kyp heaved a deep sigh. "I hate politics," he declared finally, making Anakin smile.

"But sometimes you have to live with them."

"I understand."

"Good. Again, do not follow us. Ah, Mister Glat. I thought that you might be around." 

The reporter had edged around the corner timidly once it had become clear that there would be no blood-shed here. He grimaced at the Dark Lord in discomfort. "Where are you going?"

"Away."

"To hunt down those 'conspirators', if I heard correctly."

"Let me advise you that it is sometimes smarter to keep your mouth shut."

"Sir, I am a journalist!"

"Out to uncover the truth, I know. Unfortunately some people would kill you for knowing too much. Take care."

"I will, don't you worry."

"Durron, promise me to keep an eye on that man."

"If you say so," Kyp grumbled, shooting an annoyed glare at the reporter.

"Good. Jix, we are leaving."

"May the Force be with you, Lord Skywalker."

"And with you."

Turve was trembling with glee as he watched the two men leave. But the look on Durron's face as he turned towards him doused his good mood considerably. The young Jedi bent over his companion who was still lying on the ground. 

"Damn!" he cursed. "He has been stunned." Running his hands over the other's chest he was frowning. 

"What are you doing?" Turve asked, curious. 

"Ridding him of the effects of the stun-bolt. He'll come to soon." 

And really, it took Gantoris only a few moments to open his eyes again and take a deep breath. Kyp helped him up and for a while they conversed quietly, leaving Turve standing a little apart. The reporter did not mind. He had heard enough, after all. Now he only had to get this to Jellan. When the two Jedi had found him in the tapcafé he had been afraid that they might hand him over to the New Republic troops, but fortunately they had been too busy for that. Another nice addition to his final report. 'Jedi save the day'. That did sound nice, didn't it? And it would get him the Jedi Master's approval, too, he was certain of that. After all, they did need some good publicity, right? 

"Mister Glat. If you are coming...?"

"Sure, sure. Can I make a call first?"

Jellan seemed to be a bit on edge when he got on the line, his eyes looking red and bleary. Even his voice sounded tired. 

"What is it?"

"I know what they will do next."

"Oh, good. We can cut that into your previous report too."

"Great! Well. Apparently they want to put and end to corruption in the New Republic."

"What!" Jellan exclaimed, but then his lips contorted into an amused smile. "Are you sure? A truly monumental task."

"Yes, they said—"

"It doesn't matter."

"You mean you don't want that in tonight's report?"

"No, too early for that, I think."

"Why? The New Republic knows that I am here, and it's not as if they could blame the company for doing anything illegal just because I happened to talk to Vader." The smile appearing on Jellan's face was decidedly too predatory for Turve's taste.

"You aren't considering to follow them there, my man, are you?"

"Well, I thought—"

"Are you mad?"

"But it won't be any more dangerous than this."

"Sure, get yourself killed, why don't you? Listen, Turve, this is getting too big for you."

"Too big? I don't understand—"

"There is nothing to understand. Get your report done on your way here. I want you to do the presentation yourself."

"If you say so, Jellan..."

"Don't make me wait."

"Sure."

He remained seated in front of the now blank screen a bit longer, his thoughts tumbling through his head like a landslide. Unfortunately he found that they were repeating themselves constantly, echoing the words of both Kyp Durron and the Dark Lord. _Who is this enemy? - Businessmen, politicians, you name it. They have power and they want to keep it._ Why did Jellan not want the public to know about this conspiracy? And why had he forbidden Turve to follow Vader and Jixton? The possibilities ranged from a friend's honest concern to a very ugly picture of a cover-up. And after all that had happened Turve was inclined to rather believe the bad news. 

So, what if Jellan was one of _them_? He had known about Vader's escape earlier than anyone else in the business. And he had set Turve on Jixton's trail, Jixton, who had been attacked shortly after, accusing the reporter of having staged those assaults. Hadn't the Corellian warned him? The secret. But why him? _I see it as my duty to the people to uncover things that need to be uncovered._ Remembering his own word to the Dark Lord Turve realized that he could either go back to Coruscant and pretend that nothing had happened, always living with the fear of becoming more than just a nuisance to Jellan. Or else he could uncover the truth, all of it. But how? 

"Mister Glat, are you quite finished?" Kyp Durron was impatiently tapping his left foot on the duracrete, waiting in a respectable distance.

"Yes," Turve answered lamely, still caught up in his thoughts. Making up his mind he heaved himself out of the chair he had been occupying and walked over to the Jedi Knight as if in a trance. "There is something you should know," he said, shaking his head in quiet defeat.

Five hours later they took off from the Smuggler's Moon on their way to Coruscant.

****

Jix was slipping easily through the muddy marches that covered most of Ylesia's surface. But he was only peripherally aware of the cold and the humidity. His eyes were constantly searching the ground ahead for the easiest route through this tamed wilderness, looking out for possible threats. Behind him the Dark Lord was moving soundlessly, shielding them from prying eyes. They would use the same way Jix had followed to get out of the facility on Ylesia to get in. Of course there would be more security now, but Vader was even more adept at dealing with machinery than Jix. Together they should have no problem getting past the facility's defenses. In the back of his mind he could feel the desert being tremble with anticipation. He had been keeping unusually quiet and Jix was wondering what exactly was on the being's mind. Maybe the alien was afraid of going back where he had died, and on the other hand, perhaps he was even hoping to have his revenge. Whatever it was, Jix would be content if only he kept silent some more, instead of distracting him. And he hoped that the being would again take care of disabling the transmitter. If not... If not, Jix would in the worst case become a liability.

But when the facility finally came into view he threw all doubts over board. This was it. When he had first made is choice to escape he had only wanted to run as far as he could, not caring what happened to anyone else. He had been selfish, even though he had convinced himself quite successfully that this was a wholly natural reaction to the circumstances. He had wanted to survive, nothing more. But in a way he had always known that he could not get out of this that easily. The fact that they had tried to hunt him down by all means available to them had only convinced him he was the only one who knew the truth and could betray it to the wrong people. The truth. What he had told Vader back on Coruscant had been only half of it. But he knew the Sith well enough not to want to risk his wrath. For if the Dark Lord had known... Jix shook his head slightly. 

If he had known that his actions had been manipulated on more than one level, causing him to make decisions that he had resented at the time he had had to make them... His fury would have known no bounds. And Palpatine could not have risked that. Not as long as the slightest chance had existed that Vader could overcome his influence and kill his master. Betrayal and deception were something the Dark Lord did not tolerate. That, as well as inefficiency or greed. To choose the more inefficient method to goad him into giving more credit to the development of new technologies, regardless of whether innocents got killed in the process, that was something that not even the Emperor would have been able to moderate. 

It may break Vader's heart, but once they got the information confirming all this from the facility's mainframe they could revoke the sentence. And he would live, despite everything that had happened and what he had done. Of course Jix knew that at first it would increase the other's guilty feeling immensely, but in time they could convince him that it was better than to die for something he had not wanted, deep down. And yet Jix could hear the Dark Lord's hoarse voice whisper in his mind: _It is not what I did, but what I did not know. That is what I am guilty of and nothing else._

Following Wrenga Jixton, Anakin was pondering his own questions, but he did not let them distract him for long. There was a mission to accomplish and they had better stay sharp. Jix had told him everything he could remember of the facility's security system, but he had a feeling that they would not encounter too many difficulties. They were being expected, by his estimate. And this meant that, under certain circumstances, Jix would not be master of himself anymore. Anakin would rather not have him depend on that desert alien's strength in overcoming the transmitter's influence. Still, he would not sacrifice the Corellian either. So, in essence, everything depended on himself. Again. 

Not that he would tell Jix to the face, but it was better to work with your own odds than let others impose them on you. Yet, if they failed here, Leia would have a hard time getting the New Republic out of this mess. They could force her to do absolutely anything and she could not know where to look for her adversaries first. So he and Jix simply had to succeed. It was that easy. He smiled a bit at the thought, remembering Jix' confident words back on Nar Shadaa. It's us. A most efficient assassin with an alien residing in his head and an aged warlord who was getting increasingly sentimental. What a team. But still, they were the best. Nevertheless, despite their past accomplishments, Anakin was far from giving himself over to delusions of grandeur. That would have been a fatal mistake. No, he could and would not underestimate his enemies. As he would not overestimate himself or Jixton either. 

They had chosen to move swiftly and they had been lucky to arrive on Ylesia by nightfall. This way the darkness too would cover their assault. Jix led the way to an old riverbed filled with stinking sludge, but apparently it was the only way that was half as well guarded as any other possible route. Walking into the mouth of a huge sewage tunnel leading under the facility Anakin assessed the security system rationally. There were motion sensors he could disable easily and two heavy, barred gates to bypass. Obviously these measures were meant to discourage any vermin to infiltrate the complex. 

Working their way further, Jix increasingly passed over the assignments to Anakin, trusting his abilities more than himself. It was, in a way, a precaution, because they could not know if they were already being tracked through the transmitter. Even though the Dark Lord could feel no anxiety or anticipation from the facility's many occupants. Everything seemed normal to them. Well, maybe it was normal for people trying to break in here. And maybe they were just waiting for them. 

"Control room is this way," Jix hissed once they had forgone the canalization for the ventilation system. The heat was getting nearly unbearable and Anakin could only guess at the amount of energy the facility had to be using. It was gigantic. But nothing could prepare him for what awaited them in what Jix referred to as the 'rat hole'. It was a huge pit, with galleries lining the walls, thousands of blinking panels and monitors. Anakin's mouth nearly dropped open when he realized the magnitude of the facility. Turning his eyes toward the huge control boards he felt his mind freeze at the sheer monumentality of the task ahead.

"We cannot simply blow up this fortress. There is no telling what kind of disasters that might spark."

A scream from Jix brought his head around. The Corellian had dropped to his knees on the floor, his hands pressed against his temples desperately. Anakin rushed to his side immediately, but at the same moment he became aware of the upper galleries slowly filling up. The guards bore weapons of various designs and he did not know any of those. Their owners certainly looked pretty confident with them.

"Jix, are you alright?" he whispered, keeping his senses alert.

"My head," the other man hissed. "Hurts like — ah!"

"Shh. Calm down. Relax." He let the palm of his left hand glide over Jix' forehead, numbing the pain center in his brain carefully.

"Thanks."

"You are welcome."

"And you are too," a new voice announced cheerfully and the Jedi Lord rose gracefully to give the newcomer a stern look. He was a tall Anzat, his brownish complexion nearly perfectly matching the color of his thick hair. A predatory smile was fixed on his lips and Anakin could see his dark eyes gleam dangerously. "Jixton. You are back. Who is your friend?"

Anakin watched the white-clad Anzat with disdain. He did not like their species at all.

"Who are you?"

"I am Doctor Loaz, at your service." The alien bowed mockingly in his direction. "I know who you are, of course. The very much feared Dark Lord of the Sith, Darth Vader, formerly Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker. I have always wanted to meet you."

"Really. Why?"

"You are aware of my species' way of life, I assume. Someone like you knows a great many things and I suppose you know more than most alive."

"I know what you are, yes."

"Then you know what I want from you too."

Anakin's hands clenched into fists, but he kept his anger in check. Of course he knew. The Anazati fed on emotions, on their prey's very essence and being. Their bond to the Force was great indeed, even if most were not even aware of it. But he could see the fleshy pockets at the side of Loaz' nose flap hungrily, ready to release the prehensile proboscii hidden there. The Anzat was definitely liking what he could scent of him.There had been an Anzati assassin he had employed once years ago, he had called himself Dannik Jericho. 

They had talked about the Anzati for a while and it had been - interesting - if only because their conversation had shown Anakin that people like himself were nothing but most exquisite prey for the Anzati. Not a position he had liked to see himself in ever. Jericho had elaborated greatly on the thrill the hunt brought him, the sense of danger, the committment and the courage he treasured in his victims. And the Dark Lord could identify the same enthusiasm in Loaz' eyes that he remembered seeing in the assassin's. Well, maybe it was time to show the Anzat that he was not so easily overwhelmed. 

"What makes you think you could ever take on me?"

"Ah, that is a good question. You see, I don't have to. All I have to do is convince you that it would be for the best if you simply did not fight me."

"A truly impossible feat," Anakin snarled.

"Of course, you are a warrior, a fighter. That is what makes you so rich in—substance. I can taste your anger, your fear, your contempt. All that and more. Are you really willing to risk everything on this mission?"

"I would not be here otherwise."

"Indeed. By the way, did you know that your grandchildren have come down with the flu?"

"What has that got to do with anything?"

"Nothing and all. You may be interested in the fact that vaccination was a bit unorthodox. They were inserted with a microscopic capsule containing a quite deadly virus. It will kill a human child in three hours at the most."

"You bastard."

"Now we are getting somewhere. And the fact that you do not question me tells me that you know much indeed. We are everywhere. There is no escape. And even the great, invincible Darth Vader will bow to us. Or rather, to me."

Loaz came towards him with a smile on his face, his slender arms reaching out as if to embrace him. Anakin took a step back, shaking his head in disgust when the proboscii flicked out of their hidden pockets at him, eager and greedy. But he hesitated. He could not risk the lives of the children. Not just like that. There had to be another way. What if Loaz was only bluffing? What if he could break free and get to them in time? What if–?

And still Loaz came on. Time was running out. Making his mind up Anakin slapped the Anzat's hands away. 

"No!"

The force of the blow spun the doctor around once, but his species was far stronger and faster than they looked at first appearance. In an instance Loaz was standing so close that Anakin could feel the heat of his body on his skin. He tried to jerk his head back, but too late. The proboscii slid into his nostrils and up his nose, further into the brain, paralyzing him at once. But Anakin was not prepared to give up just yet. He tried to break free once more, but Loaz' fingers dug into his shoulders like claws, slowly pushing him down to his knees. Looking up Anakin could see the look of pure ecstasy in the Anzat's eyes. 

It was the look of someone who had tasted true power over another being, the greatest power of all, the power over life and death. He could feel his mind and consciousness slip away, leaving him running behind, trying to catch up with his life. It could not end like this! But the only thing he was aware of in this world between life and death were his own moans of agony. Closing his eyes Anakin gathered his senses one last time.

Jix stood rooted in place, unable to move at all. He was staring at the frozen tableau spread out before him, more frightening than anything he had ever seen before. 

Loaz was bent over the Dark Lord, holding him as tightly as a lover would, locked in a fierce and passionate kiss of death. And the Jedi did not stir, although his eyes were open and tears were streaming down his paling face. It was so alien to see Vader in a position that was this submissive. He was the one who was always in control, of others and himself. But he was helpless now, no longer the predator but the prey. The sight froze the marrow in Jix' bones and he felt as if it was his life the Anzat was feeding on, not the Dark Lord's. 

And then, very suddenly, the spell broke and Loaz was thrown back against the far wall, his arms and legs spread out at his sides. He landed hard, his head bouncing against the plasteel, before he slid down to the floor. Almost immediately the Corellian's eyes whipped toward Vader again to see him reeling on his knees, wiping his left hand over his face that was fixed in a primal snarl.

All around the guards were shouldering their weapons and the clicking sound of locks being eased rang throughout the chamber. The Dark Lord clambered to his feet unsteadily and by the time he had managed to finally balance himself on shaky legs the Anzat had recovered already. He was smiling at the tall warrior pleasantly and nodded in satisfaction.

"Your resistance only makes this more enjoyable for me, you know? That willingness to risk everything, to step over the edge, adds a spicy flavor to the whole ritual."

"Save your breath," Vader hissed.

"I would advise you to do the same," the doctor replied coolly and drew a small tube from his white overcoat. "And for now you should rest."

Vader caught the small projectile aimed at him in mid-air, more a reflex than anything else, and Loaz broke into hearty laughter at the other's stunned expression when it suddenly broke apart in a tiny explosion. Walking toward the Dark Lord, who was retreating a bit, still staring at his now bleeding right hand, he shook his head in disdain.

"Quite an impressive effort. Nevertheless futile. The sedative will leave you conscious. But do not believe that you could escape its effects by slipping into a trance of some sort. I have made sure that you will not be able to concentrate for long. A few minutes at the most, by my estimate, keeping in mind that you are a very powerful Force-user. Which would explain why you could react at all. As I said, very impressive indeed." 

The Dark Lord was staring murder at him, but Jix could see that he was weakened. He was holding himself upright against the wall, trying to keep his balance. Suddenly his legs refused to support him any longer and he dropped to the floor, face down. The Corellian swallowed hard. All eyes were on the Sith. Time to make his move.


	6. Captive

Chapter 6

Anakin tried to rise again, but his limbs and muscles would not obey him anymore. It was hard to concentrate on anything at all, even keeping his thoughts focused on the here and now was all but impossible. Everything was fuzzy and every sudden movement startled him, as if he were a newborn thrown into a strange world. Since he could not trust his mind anymore felt as if lying on ice, Anakin resorted to staring straight ahead, fearing that any other move would throw him off balance again. When Loaz sat down on his haunches in front of him, a smile still on his face, Anakin rallied all the energy left to him, but the effort made his head spin. So he was left with nothing but a defiant glare. The Anzat barked a sharp laugh.

"You will get used to it, believe me."

"Really? How do you know what it feels like?" Anakin said, or at least he thought he had said it. Fact was that nothing worked anymore. He was picking his way through muddy ground, through a dense fog that filled his thoughts, obscuring his mind in an annoying fashion. 

"Oh, I forgot to mention it. The parts of your brain responsible for breathing and blood circulation and such are untouched. But I fear that you won't be able to move much or talk."

"Sithspawn!" Jix shouted in disgust, furious, and Anakin flinched inwardly when the Corellian came briskly toward them. But he could do nothing but stare at his bleeding hand, trying to imagine how it normally worked. Loaz rose gracefully, turning towards the angry agent.

"Freeze it," he told Jix calmly, and to Anakin's mild surprise the man obeyed instantly.

Stopping short Jix felt his heart clench with sudden dread. His mind filled with shame he could do nothing but stand there and watch the Dark Lord stare numbly at his hands, as if he had never seen them before. "Damn you," he whispered, close to tears. He was not crying for Vader but himself, because his mind and body still remembered the torture, the pain and the punishment. And Jix could see the mocking smile in Loaz' eyes, daring him to come any closer. 

"I see you have not forgotten your training, Jixton. Very good. Your friend here will learn too, that it is better to obey me than fight the inevitable."

"You never managed to break me, Loaz, and you won't break him either."

"What is left of him, Jixton. And you are broken, whether you want to accept it or not. It doesn't matter anyway. You are mine. That is all that counts."

A low hiss escaped Jix' throat when he took another step toward the Anzat, fighting down the fear once more. He could feel the desert being lurk behind his eyes, full of hatred and fury. They had managed to escape the last time together. And maybe this time they could end this nightmare once and for all. But Loaz was no fool. His face turned very earnest all of a sudden and he gave the guards lining the galleries a sharp nod. Jix was spun around twice by the first stun-bolt that hit him before he crashed to the floor, only a few paces from where Vader still lay, blue eyes wide open in disbelieving surprise.

"You two are one of a kind, really," Loaz stated in satisfaction. "I knew that once I had you in my grasp there would be no limits to what I could accomplish. One small matter, Lord Vader. Your grandchildren. I think you should be punished for that little incident a few minutes back. Which one will die first? Do you want to pick, maybe?"

Anakin turned his gaze inward, assessing his situation logically, despite the impotent fury he felt at the Anzat's cruel proposition. But he could not think beyond a few steps, could not gather enough momentum to get past that invisible border the Anzat's attack had left in his mind. But he did not have to. A few minutes were all he needed to accomplish his goal. Forcing himself to relax, he let his body fall away, leaving his soul drifting like a spirit in the dark ocean of death. 

"Father?"

He gave Leia a reassuring smile.

"Please, I do not have much time. Where are the children?"

"Upstairs." She frowned, concern wiping the surprise off her face in an instant.

"Get them down here then."

If he had been able to tap his foot impatiently he would have, but in this spectral form he had to resort to doing so mentally. When he heard his three grandchildren pound down the stairs, yelling his name gleefully, he could not help but smile at their joy.

"Why are you all washed out?" Jaina shouted upon seeing him and he almost laughed at her earnest expression.

"Because I am not really here, little one. Come to me."

As she did he placed his hands on top of her head, searching. The capsule was easy to find, the only thing that did not fit with the little girl's bloodstream. "This will hurt just a bit, Jaina. Be brave for me, alright?"

Leia knew better than to interrupt him, but she knelt down next to her daughter, whispering soothing words into her ear. Finally the girl jerked with pain as Anakin let the capsule pierce the flesh inside her throat. She coughed and spat instinctively, sparing Anakin more work. "Quick now, Jacen. Can you be as brave as your sister?" The little boy nodded, but his brown eyes were wide with fear. Anakin repeated the same procedure and then it was the youngest's turn. 

He smiled down at the earnest expression on little Anakin's face. "Grandpa hurt," the boy said, completely sincere, and Anakin knew that his own fear must be showing on his face when Leia turned white as snow. "No!" she whispered, shocked. "It is alright, little one," Anakin told his grandson and daughter calmly, then reached out to touch the little boy's forehead. "It is alright. Do not worry." When he was finished he sighed deeply, but time was running short. "Leia," he began. "Don't let them out of your sight. There are enemies all around you..." He could hear his voice drifting away, could feel himself fade away. "Leia...."

"What did you do? What did you do?" 

Loaz had turned him on his back, staring down at him in bewilderment. Anakin forced himself to smile, even though he was not sure if it showed on his face at all. But Loaz must have seen something, for his dark eyes turned to stone. "I will find out, don't you worry." Rising abruptly he waved a few of the guards that had finally come down into the pit forward. "Get them into their assigned laboratories. Quick now."

When two of the guards picked up his limp body, his head lolled to one side, allowing Anakin to look at Jix, whose open eyes must reflect his own hopelessness. They were trapped solid and he had no idea how they could escape this at all.

"You know, it was very inconvenient that Firek Nab sentenced you to death," Loaz told him conversationally as he was carried further into the facility. "We originally intended to implant you with that chip your friend Jixton tested for us. It is mightily improved now, and I doubt that he will be able to resist this new version. We will, of course, download that alien from his memories. It has proven to be far too uncontrollable. But that is beside the point. Where was I? Ah, yes. And once the public would have realized how effective that chip is, I daresay that a lot of local governments would have come flocking to us, asking Celltec to supply their prisons and prisoners with those. Maximum security, you see? And less cost on security personnel. A truly revolutionary concept. In here please." 

The room was a sterile white, with blank monitors lining the wall and Anakin could not help but feel himself reminded of his cell back on Byss. It was just the same. Loaz waved the two guards carrying his captive towards a horizontal platform. It was irritating to not feel the rotation when they heaved him onto the bed, and his confusion had to show in his eyes too. Examining his injured hand Loaz bandaged it expertly before he smiled up at Anakin.

"Do not worry. In time there will be nothing you will miss anymore."

The platform was brought into a vertical position, leaving Anakin hanging from his bonds, or at least that was what he imagined. He met Loaz' gaze calmly, and although he could not utter a word their meaning was easy to read. The Anzat's face darkened and he gave the Dark Lord a sharp nod before turning toward the door to leave again. 

"We shall see which one of us will win this one, Lord Vader. Indeed, we will."

Jix was cautiously pushing himself up on his elbows. The sight greeting him made the Corellian groan in dismay. He remembered this room all too well. The force-field shielding his small section from the rest of the rectangle, the narrow door leading into the testing facilities beyond. The medical equipment, everything. And Loaz. The doctor had his hands tucked into the pockets of his white overcoat and Jix would rather not know what he was hiding there. A pleased smile appeared on the Anzat's face as he came up to the field separating them. Jix rose slowly, still feeling the after-effects of the stun-bolts that had felled him. But he was remarkably calm when he faced his captor again. This time was like the very first they had met, when Jix had still been confident that he could win despite the odds. It was strange, in a way, that now that he was truly beaten his confidence returned to him once more. And even more curious was the silence echoing throughout his mind. 

"You have slept well, I take it?"

"I would hardly call that sleep."

"Really. You were unconscious for almost eight hours."

"What?" Jix shook his head in bewilderment.

"Of course, it was quite an extensive operation we had to undertake. But everything went well. You notice that there seems to be something amiss, don't you?"

"The chip—"

"Exactly. You should be thankful for having me rid you of that annoying passenger."

Jix shrugged. "I dunno. I liked him, in a way."

Loaz chuckled softly: "Good, very good. You haven't lost your humor. Keep it that way. You will stay here for quite some time."

"What about Vader?"

"What about him?"

"What are you planning to do with him?"

"A few tests. There are some people who would just love to keep their secrets, well, secret. Especially from the Jedi, since those are obviously determined to take their old role as guardians again."

"Cute."

"Hardly that, Jixton." Crossing his hands behind his back Loaz started pacing the length of the room. "You know, that is an intriguing relationship you two seem to have. Very interesting. Not to say, noble. Old-fashioned."

"For you, maybe. But it is what made us survive this far."

"Well, it has failed you now. You know, there is a saying that the sword is not a thing but a state of the mind. A fitting image for you two. Unfortunately the Dark Lord's mind is almost gone now. And since he cannot guide your actions anymore we will gladly take over that part. You are good, Jixton, very good. And we would not want to lose you."

"Well, thank you so much," Jix hissed between clenched teeth, when he realized that Loaz was planning to use him not only in experiments, but in real-life situations too. For what, he could easily guess at. Nevertheless he forced himself to ask: "And you are throwing Vader's talents away just like that?"

"I must admit that his resistance surprised me. I do not want to take any chances with him, you understand. He will not leave this facility again. Whereas you might, very soon. And wouldn't that be nice?"

__

Yes, indeed.

Jix started inwardly at the sudden sound of the desert being's dreamy voice. Noticing his surprise Loaz smiled in quiet triumph before he turned to leave, and the Corellian was very glad for his departure. That way he could concentrate fully on his unexpected visitor.

"He said you were gone..."

__

I am no slave to any machine, Jix.

"But the chip was what contained your memories, your self." 

__

I know nothing of that, my friend. You found me in the desert, do you remember?

"Yes, I remember. We were watching the sunset together."

__

You were so lonely. And you were losing yourself. 

Jix hesitated. The voice was so close that he could feel its warmth caress his very soul. It was a strange feeling, but not unknown. He had felt its touch before. But back then he had just found it annoying, nothing more. And then another memory surfaced.

"You cried almost every night. Why?"

__

I was mourning our loss, Jix. Yours and mine.

It was true. He had refused to acknowledge his pain, had built up shields of anger and determination to keep his despair at bay. For a while he had banned part of himself and in doing so he had only allowed that part to grow stronger, until he finally succeeded in breaking free. He had fought the machinery in his head with a vengeance, in a way the scientists never had anticipated. And in that they had underestimated his strength and his desire for freedom and independence. The desert being had led the way for him, helping him to find his own self again. Dropping down to the floor he buried his head in his hands, his shoulders shaking with silent laughter. Loaz was a fool. And he would pay for his arrogance. Just as soon as Jix got out of here again.

Staring into the distance he frowned and asked slowly: "Can you help me again?"

Walking the quiet hallways of the as of yet pretty empty Jedi Academy on Coruscant, Luke Skywalker was making his way to his office quickly. His sister had called ahead on her way over and he could feel her impatience. Whatever was bothering her though, she had to learn to control her anxiety. And as if she had heard him, Leia seemed to be calming down a bit the closer he came, but then Luke realized that it was merely the reassurance of sensing him coming closer that was easing her tension. He went into his office with a tiny sigh and smiled at his sister wearily when she rose to embrace him. Holding her tight he tried to not let her feel his own worries. Leia had told him about Anakin appearing to her and the children, about the capsules they had found in the carpet and his warning. And then Luke had spent two hours trying to find Anakin in the Force. But what he remembered as his father's characteristic presence had failed to materialize. Still, Luke was certain that he was alive somewhere. Had to be. Looking up at him Leia blinked heavy eyelids, then shook her head slightly.

"The lawyers are lining up in front of my office and Gita agrees with Fey'lya and myself that something must be wrong if they are all trying to evade the new regulations. They are hiding something. But what makes them think I am so stupid that I won't realize what they are trying to do?"

Luke pursed his lips thoughtfully. "Well. If they are feeling this safe it can only mean that they have the highest support."

"Well," she said indignantly, "they surely don't have mine."

He laughed at that. "Is there any way you can get them?"

"It will take time. Gita is taking care of the legal stuff."

"She is good, but will it be enough? And furthermore, what if they try to get her out of the way too?"

Leia shook her head again: "We have to keep the faith and guard against them as best we can: by trusting noone but ourselves."

"You trust Fey'lya?"

"Not entirely. But by working with him I can keep an eye on his own activities. And with what has happened in the past neither of us can profit from this affair. All we can do is try to uncover its whole extent and whoever is behind this. Ferreting them out might take us years, but if we can find the vital strings we can strike there, and then, if we are lucky, the whole net will unravel."

"Strategies, Leia. Those are Father's specialty."

"But he is not here."

"No. But we can enlist a bit of help."

"Like who? Daala and Palleon?"

"You are reading my mind," Luke told her in feigned indignation.

"Well, they are the obvious choices. And Daala will be very glad to have her mind focused on something else. I really don't envy her."

"Neither do I. Mara said that she will contact Karrde to gain us a bit of background information."

"Good. Then we have me and Fey'lya for diversion, Gita leading the official investigation and Mara conducting a covert search. Which leaves one question: what are you going to do?"

"I am going to find Father. What about the transmitter? Can't they just trace him with it?"

Leia slapped her forehead hard: "I almost forgot about that!" Her eyes started sparkling angrily: "Why do we have to think of everything?" Suddenly she froze. And Luke knew that her face must be as pale as his own as he too realized what she was thinking.

"I'll find out who supplied that transmitter, who injected it. It could be a trace. And I am going to talk to Daala and Palleon."

She gave him a quick hug. "Thank you. I have to prepare for the next round in the Senate. Some petitions have come in that demand that the government step back over this affair."

"And? Are you?"

"Never ever give up. That's the spirit."

He was staring at his right hand furiously, willing it to work. When it suddenly jerked against the restraints Anakin frowned. After all, he had only wanted to flex his fingers, nothing more. Trying once again he still got the same reaction. What was wrong? He seemed to lack fine control of his movements, as if his body understood the general idea of what was required, but could not manage the details. It was frustrating and the most annoying part of it was that Anakin had no idea to what extent the Anzat's attack had damaged his brain. Obviously he could still think properly and although his memories were clouded, he had not lost his major weapon. Logic and reason would get him out of this somehow. 

The sedative had not worn off yet and concentrating was still almost impossible. But he had managed once and this one time had been sufficient to throw a life-line, so to speak, that would keep him safe from further attacks. Yet Anakin had vowed to himself that this would be his very last resort. Loaz may know something about the Jedi, but he did not know enough to trap one. And apart from that, his prisoner was no ordinary Jedi. The Dark Side gave him the possibility to achieve more in less time, a fact that was perfect for the short span over which he could gather his concentration. On the other hand such a feat would leave him in a state of heightened awareness, not unlike a trance. And if he was not careful he would lose himself there, leaving him trapped in between life and death, wandering between the worlds. 

Anakin was not sure which path he would chose then. It depended on the circumstances, of course. Loaz had asked him if he was willing to risk everything, and he was, but only if there was nothing more for him to accomplish. It was the same old game. Live or die, win or lose. And somehow he felt that there was only one possibility left for him at this point. It was the logical step to take and yet the one he was loath to consider. Closing his eyes slowly Anakin remembered Obi-Wan's words aboard the first Death Star. "If my blade finds its mark, you will cease to exist. But, if you cut me down I will only become more powerful." Well, experience had taught Anakin just what his friend had meant by that. But as of yet he was trapped in this body that was getting increasingly out of his control.

Loaz was a hunter, and as such predictable to a certain extent. With his prey secured the Anzat would not bother with him for some time, and it was clear to Anakin that the doctor had other things on his mind. Unfortunately that brought one advantage and one disadvantage. The advantage was this: Anakin would have enough time to think up a plan. And the disadvantage was that he would also have to wait for the right opportunity to arrive. And by then the circumstances could already have changed. He had no way of observing his enemy in order to predict his actions. It was hopeless, really, but there was one man who had more freedom than he did: Wrenga Jixton. He shared a bond with Jix that was entirely different from what connected him with his children. They were alike, in mind and spirit. And the Corellian had matured over the past seven years, had found his true self, in a way. Maybe it had been this captivity that had shown Jixton his limits and had allowed him to perfect his skills. But now he and the Dark Lord were equals in almost every way. 

Jix had grown more careful, less willing to take risks. And yet he was still most capable of handling himself and others. The one thing lacking was strategic thinking. True, he could plan ahead and yes, he could manipulate others if he wanted to, but he always thought on the immediate problem only, without bothering with the consequences. Not that he had to, usually. Either the problem was solved by then or else it did not remain a problem for very long. That was Jix' very own style, but just as he had told Anakin on Nar Shadaa, both had to work smaller now. Anakin almost smiled at that. But only almost. With a tiny sigh he let his mind drift into the darkness, trying not to think of anything at all. It was not a matter of control, after all, but of letting go.

The darkness was suffocating her, like a cold blanket of despair and solitude. And not even leaving the lights turned on could keep that feeling at bay. Daala had been released from hospital only three days before but she still felt as if her body, her heart and spirit were packed in thick cotton, refusing to feel anything. She was curled up on her sofa, watching the news again. It was a painful antidote to her loneliness, but the only thing that seemed to work. Listening to the mindless bickering made her blood simmer with rage. Of course she could have taken Leia's offer and moved in with the Solo family. But Daala had felt that she should handle this alone. Alone. Wrapping her arms around her chest she let her hair fall into her face, shielding her from prying eyes as she started to cry. Gods, she missed him.

It was late that night when she finally could muster enough strength to face the darkness on her own. She walked into her bedroom slowly, looking at the bed with disdain, remembering their last night together. The night he had left her back in the hospital. Throwing herself on the soft mattress Daala buried her face in the pillows, hugging them to her furiously. She could feel his hand on her heart, warm against her skin, the look in his eyes as he had recited the ancient ritual so earnestly, trying to hide his surprise. How much he had wanted to ask her how she had known. Daala smiled to herself. Well, he was not the only one who knew a lot about a great many things. And she had always been interested in history. Thinking of him now hurt, yet she wanted to think of nothing else. She turned around to lie on her back and stare up at the ceiling with eyes wide open. He was looking at her, a smile on his face, one that seemed cool and distant even though she knew it was sincere. "Anakin," she whispered and reached out to touch him. His skin was cold and dry and it took her a moment to realize that he was not really there, that he was nothing more than part of her memory, an image from times past. 

She snatched her hand away quickly, hurting too much from her own mind's cruel betrayal. He was not there. He was gone. "Anakin." Her voice drew away into the corners of the room, carrying her anguish and despair with them. But the echoes returned only a few moments later to torment her further. Restless and angry Daala tried to escape, her screams muffled against the pillow and mattress as she fought the darkness relentlessly, determined to not let it get the better of her. And then, suddenly, she felt the brush of a soft caress across her shoulders, running up her neck and over her cheek. She shivered under his touch, and tears started streaming down her cheeks as she raised her head, afraid to believe. Turning around she frowned into the gloom. There was noone there. Suddenly suspicious she drew her legs up to her chest, her eyes tracking every shadow. This was getting too eerie for her taste and for a second she doubted her own sanity. Impossible. She must have imagined this whole affair. 

Huffing a sigh Daala drew her blanket up over her head, refusing to let her imagination play another trick on her. And froze, when she had orientated herself in her cozy hiding-place. The vision unfolding in front of her was no dream, it was another sort of reality, she thought. It was the desert on a bright morning. In the distance the dark mountains rose into the light blue sky like a tidal wave. And against the backdrop of this majestic landscape Daala could make out a single figure. Her heart leapt higher at the sight of him. But as she walked closer doubt began nagging at the back of her mind. He did not look like Anakin. Although he was tall and wore a long, black cloak there was something strange about him. Something familiar. When Daala finally reached out to touch his shoulder he turned around toward her. Her breath froze in her throat at the sight of his alien face. The blue eyes rimmed by puffed-up pink sores were without emotion, cold pits of ice in a sea of white. And in an instant she knew what he was. And what it meant. 

He came to with a start, shaking his head slowly. The vision had intercepted him just short of the boundary, drawing him off course to another destination than he had planned originally. Maybe her call had distracted him or else — and that possibility was more frightening than the thought of losing control not only over his body, but also his mind — her call itself had summoned him to her, unwillingly perhaps, but there it was. If others could control him like that... But no, this was a different sort of bond, a voluntary one. He had followed her voice almost unconsciously. She had seemed so vulnerable, despite her efforts, and it was endearing to see her struggle so, for his sake. He had been watching her, longing to touch her, and when she had finally become aware of his presence... The look in her eyes had frightened him, turning from joy to horror in the matter of a heartbeat. He did not know why she had reacted that way, but then, maybe she had seen something different than he had. And what he had seen had made his heart beat stronger, had filled his mind with happiness. Daala was regaining her composure again, was recovering from her past ordeal and that was all that mattered to him. 

Well, almost everything. Strengthened by that close encounter Anakin gathered his senses again and struck. The bonds fell away easily, freeing him in an instant. He smiled a bit as he reached out to mute the distant alarms with the Force, his mind a stormy sea surging against the desert shore with a vengeance. Taking the first, shaky step was a triumph for him, even though his movements were a bit jerky if he did not concentrate. Apparently the sedative had finally worn off. Walking forward Anakin kept his eyes straight on the door, knowing full well that without something to focus on he would falter and fall. Not something he could afford right now. The corridor beyond the unlocked door was deserted, but he could feel an apprehensive presence close by. Others were joining it now. They were cautious. Good. 

Pushing himself off the doorframe, Anakin crashed against the opposite wall, groaning softly. He closed his eyes, letting the torrent build to a whirlwind of destruction, only waiting to be released. It did not take the guards long to realize that their prey had apparently risked too much for his condition. A fatal mistake. He waited for them to come closer, ever closer, before he struck at their tight ranks with deadly precision. The fine droplets of blood raining on his face made him smile. Rising again the Dark Lord fought hard to keep his mind concentrated, but his body was fighting him again. Well, he could control that as long as he did not grow too tired. Speed was called for and he made the most of it. Lurching along the corridor Anakin could not spare an ounce of strength to search for Jix, but he would find him eventually. That he was sure of.

Turve Glat scurried after the two Jedi as they strode from the landing ramp to greet their master. The reporter was a bit reluctant to join them, which was very unusual for him. But he needn't have bothered. Luke Skywalker listened to the hasty words of Kyp Durron earnestly, his forehead creasing in a deep frown. Once the younger man was finished, the Jedi Master came over to where Turve was waiting and his face softened just a bit.

"Mister Glat. I am very grateful for your offer of help. But as I see it, you should not be seen publicly with any of us. My sister is still your primary source of information though. If there are news, contact her. Alright?"

"Alright. I have a presentation to prepare..."

"Go ahead. Be careful."

"After what has happened so far? Don't you worry!"

"Mister Glat. You don't have any clue where my father might have gone to?"

"No, sorry. What about the transmitter he was implanted with?"

"Who told you about that?"

"One of the wardens."

"I see. Well, security tells us that they have lost contact to the chip and they think Father might have deactivated it."

"Is that possible?"

"Yes."

"Then what makes you think he didn't? It's only logical, after all."

"Yes. But it was also logical not to go to Nar Shadaa, and yet he did. Can you guess why?"

"Well, he knew that the NRI was aware of that logic too. So he could safely reason that they might expect him to go elsewhere."

"Nice try, Mister Glat," Skywalker smiled at him. "The problem is that my father thinks beyond that. He knew all that, yes. But he also was expecting to find something on Nar Shadaa, apart from NRI agents. I wonder what it was? You spoke of a conspiracy and that he seemed to know more about it. We know he does. Gita Deron confirmed that. So what he was really seeking on Nar Shadaa was a trail to follow."

"And he found it."

"Exactly. The transmitter could have been a sort of insurance, but he did not trust whoever was at the tracking boards." 

"But why didn't he destroy it then?"

"I am not sure. Maybe as a sort of distraction, or else he trusts us to find him through it somehow."

"Distraction? He is expecting his enemies to be able to track him?"

"Sometimes it is wiser to move in the open, putting the enemy at ease and making them believe they know what you are going to do, while at the same time someone else is running a mission for you."

"Jixton."

"Who else?"

Slapping his forehead Turve moaned softly. This was getting too much for him. What sane person would ever reason like that? Shaking his head he shot the Jedi Master a smile and excused himself. Jellan would be mad at him for the delay anyway. No sense in making it worse than it already was. But maybe he could surprise his boss a bit. Oh, yes.

Straightening her glasses, Gita Deron looked at the three beings seated across from her one by one, her eyes dreamy, as if in deep thought. The Rodian, Devaronian and the human female were the legal corps of the newly founded Cellcorp, a fusion between Agracorp and Celltec, the market leaders in their respective branches. They were smiling at her waxenly and she found herself smiling back almost instinctively. A mere baring of her teeth, nothing more, a threat, albeit very subtle, that she would not let them play games with her. Senator Fey'lya had pointed out that something must be going on in the background, that the President's new regulations had riled them up a bit, and the lawyers' presence in Gita's new office only confirmed his suspicion. She found it very refreshing to be working with like-minded people, and that did not only encompass their goals. The Bothan and the Princess were more alike than they would care to admit. 

Yes, maybe Organa Solo tended toward other methods than Fey'lya did, but both were building on strategy behind their rhetoric, where the Bothan seemed to excel. The Princess preferred emotions to do the work for her. She used words like 'honor', 'equality' and 'teamwork' the same as he used 'power', 'conspiracy' or 'doom'. And both were making a terrific job of ripping each other's throat out at least verbally whenever the media bothered with reporting on the Senate proceedings. They gave the public the feeling that what they were discussing was important and entertaining at the same time, and Gita was sure that the very most did not realize that they were being goaded and led along a predetermined path. One that would allow Organa Solo not only to keep her post, but also to destroy her enemies with their own weapons. But she did not rely on that only. A wise woman, a strategist like her father. 

Clearing her throat Gita folded her hands neatly on the table top, finally and officially acknowledging the lawyers' nervous smiles. 

"Ladies and gentlemen, we have much to discuss. You are aware that the company you represent will have to make significant changes to fulfill the regulations stated in the sections XP134 to XP254 in the new business charter. That means laying your company's complete profile open for an examination concerning monopolization and trade regulations that state explicitly that one company cannot own more than thirty percent of the firms represented on the respective market. Additionally we will examine the work conditions and general regulations concerning safety."

The Devaronian raised a clawed hand timidly. "With permission, Miss Deron, both Celltec and Agracorp have received excellent records on those conditions in the past. I see no need to—"

"They weren't examined by me, were they?" she interrupted him, smiling politely.

"Err, no, obviously not."

"Good. Anything else?"

"The company would like to voice misgivings about these proceedings," the Rodian began, eyeing his failed companion with contempt. "These regulations serve no real purpose and are designed only to subdue proper market power. There are no small companies being examined. We think this a bit unfair, not to say volatile."

Gita raised her glasses to squint at the small screen of the datapad in front of her. Her mouth quoting the words displayed there quietly, she let the threesome simmer a bit before answering. When she was done she threw the Rodian a bright smile: 

"You are right! Indeed, Mister — ah — Ptano. There are only big corporations being investigated. And do you know why?" she intersected as he started to say something. "Because those big corporations own most of the smaller companies. So you see, your worry is wholly unjustified. I so hope that I could help you with that."

A sour smile froze on his face: "Yes, thank you. That clarifies much."

"But it does leave one question unanswered." The human female raised her eyebrows coolly. "What is the whole purpose of this examination?"

"The government feel that these regulations will help spurring on the economy a bit. You see, we have incorporated the Empire — excuse the pun — and we have more companies and more citizens to deal with. To ease the transition, the government thinks it best to examine the more problematic cases to avoid any problems with production, transport and delivery."

"Should that not be regulated by the market itself?"

"You are a studied woman, I can see. Of course, it should. But apparently the market was incapable of this task under the former regulations."

"Why is it then that only the New Republic companies are being investigated?"

"I do not think I understand." Oh, she understood very well what the woman was aiming at.

"What I mean is that none of the former Imperial companies are being examined. We find that suspicious, to say the least."

"Speaking of suspicious, there have been minor anomalies on a couple of worlds producing foodstuff. Parts of your company, by the way. I wonder why the ever-efficient Agracorp failed to deliver on time, leaving the whole production line stranded for almost twenty hours. How much did that cost you? And why this delay?"

"We had problems with the company supplying the transports. They had accepted another assignment before ours even though we enjoy the status of most favored customer with them."

"Scandalous. And in response to that delay food-prices on fourteen worlds depending on your supply rose by almost fifty percent for admittedly only a short time. Strangely enough a dry period had destroyed their own harvests, raising the demand of foodstuffs heavily."

"If you are implying a connection there I fear that we will have to discuss this in the court-room, Miss Deron," the woman snapped angrily.

"I am not _implying_ anything. Rest assured that all of your answers will be questioned in time. For now, let me not keep you."

Once the three had left her office Gita slumped back in her chair and took off her glasses. Rubbing the bridge of her nose tiredly, she could not but smile. They would get them in the end. But the whole extent of their manipulations made her sick. They did not care if people died or had to starve. Safety standards were deliberately kept low to ensure more frequent repairs or else the machines were of so low quality that they had to be replaced infuriatingly often. And still the companies managed to keep the upper hand, despite the dissatisfied customers. Because they owned almost all of their competitors. It was a maze, literally, that they had to unravel and it would take a lot of time. 

Still, all these small victories were rewarding, in a way, and eased the pain of having lost the major battle. Gita still thought back on the trial every other night, trying to assess what she could have done in another way to make a difference. The judge had been found dead, curious enough, supposedly died of a heart-attack. But the Princess had ordered a thorough investigation of Firek Nab's death, especially since voices grew louder that accused Anakin Skywalker of being responsible for her demise. The fools. But they were only at the beginning. And they were gathering momentum with each passing day and would continue to do so until they could overrun their opponents with an inescapable thicket of regulations and highly motivated investigators. Including herself. Positioning her glasses on her nose again Gita leaned forward to study the latest reports that had come in during her little talk with the lawyers. There was a lot to do. No need to dawdle in any way. 

He had been waiting for almost half an hour before he was admitted into Jellan's office. The man wore a smile on his face, gesturing for Turve to take a seat. 

"Let's get straight to the point. I want you to get down with the technicians and select a few pics. Write your text et cetera. The schedule is as follows: first we have you as primary header and most recent news from Nar Shadaa. Then a detailed background report on the whole affair including the judge's death."

"She's dead?"

"Yes. After that section there'll be a commentary and the latest polls on the public image of the government. Maybe we can even convince the President to say a few words. If not, well, silence can speak for itself too. Alright? So get going. The editors will review the report later on."

"No live transmission?"

"What for?"

Turve shrugged uncomfortably: "That's not really what I had in mind for getting the Tahnera Prize, you know? A meager report like that...."

"I am sorry, my man," Jellan sighed. "Another time, alright? Just tonight. The Tahnera will be yours, don't worry. Know what? Once this is over you can do whatever you want, investigate what you like."

"You mean I am fired?"

"I am certain that you are only joking, my man! Why should I fire you? I just know that you and I are a team."

"A team?"

Jellan nodded slowly. "Whatever happened to that conspiracy theory of yours, by the way?"

"I — ah — I don't think it's that important," Turve managed weakly.

"Good. Good. If that is all?"

"Sure."

"I'll see you tonight then. For a live commentary."

"A live—? I love you, Jellan, do you know that?"

"Yeah, I do. Out with ya now! See ya later."

Turve walked out of Jellan's office as if in a trance. A live commentary! He started rubbing his hands gleefully. That was his chance! Finally! Tonight's episode of 'Coruscant Daily' would be memorable, that he would make sure of. Literally. Laughing quietly Turve hurried into his own office and activated his datapad eagerly. The story of his life. This was it. 

"Ouch!" Snatching his hand away Jix waved it in the air furiously in a vain effort to cool his blistered fingertips. Breaking out of his prison took more time than he had anticipated. But with a bit more resilience... Heaving a sigh he leaned forward on his knees again to blink at the corner where the force-field met the wall. That was where he had to find the weak point. As of yet his attempts had been unsuccessful though. They had improved that thing, apparently. Too bad. Trying once more he was interrupted by a loud thud against the outer door. Staring at it the Corellian frowned. But when it slid open to reveal the crumpled form of the Dark Lord standing there his face lit up with hope and joy.

"Hey! Come on in, don't be shy!" he shouted, jumping to his feet.

"Cool down, Jix," Vader admonished him weakly, his voice barely a whisper. Sweat was beading his forehead, but he found the force-field controls easily. He almost smashed the whole panel trying to hit the right buttons. 

"Are you alright?"

"Are you blind? Do I look ... alright?" the Dark Lord wheezed and almost keeled over. 

Rushing to his side Jix caught him before he could fall. "What's the plan?"

"Get out."

"Sure. Come on."Vader jerked in the vague direction of the door. "What's the matter? Don't act like such a baby. I know you can do this properly." The other man growled softly and Jix wisely decided to shut up. But there was something important on his mind:

"Where is Loaz?"

"I have no idea."

"How did you get here anyway?"

"I was trying to ... evade the guards. By the way... they are waiting for us outside."

"Now you tell me!" Jix let go of the Dark Lord, paying no heed to his feeble protests as he staggered against the wall, bereft of the Corellian's support so unexpectedly.

But Jix was busy hunting around for a weapon. There had to be— Ah! Of course they had not forgotten to include stun-weapons in the room's accessories. Breaking the emergency glass with his elbow he winced at the pain, but holding the heavy rifle in his hands made him forget about that small inconvenience immediately.

"Come to Papa," he whispered lovingly. Setting the weapon on the highest voltage he took his position next to the door. "Which direction?"

"Five ... to the left, three to the right.... Shoot left, those have less ... protection."

"Alright."

Rolling out of the doorway Jix came up shooting and turned around to take aim at the threesome on the right who were immediately coming up to protect their comrades. 

"Way is clear."

"Good."

They made a pretty odd pair as they walked through the facility very slowly. The Dark Lord was hanging on to the wall while Jix kept his senses alert and his weapon at the ready. At the pace they were going it would take them a few hours to get out, Jix thought sourly, but he could not motivate Vader to move just a bit faster. He understood, of course, that it required almost all of the Dark Lord's concentration to keep moving at all. Still, it was frustrating. And Vader was as aware of the danger as he was, after all. 

"Jix."

"What?"

"The way ... ahead is ... blocked."

"Shit. There are two doors. Which one?"

"Left."

"Alright." Pushing the door open Jix examined the room beyond closely. It was too dark to make out much, but the Corellian found the light-switch quickly. A muffled cry from behind him snapped his head around, raising the level of adrenaline in his blood anew. Loaz. 

"Put down your weapon, Jixton."

He did as ordered.

"Ah, it is good to see that the new prototype works perfectly. You see, it is designed to react to my voice pattern only. It translates the words into neuronic signals and has you acting accordingly. Without any interference."

"Maybe I should tell you that you did not get rid of the desert being," Jix hissed, willing himself to move. To no avail.

"What?" the doctor seemed surprised for a moment, but then he shook his head. 

He had a hand placed on Vader's shoulder, the other was hovering against the back of the Dark Lord's neck. The Sith's eyes were frozen in horror, and only now did Jix become aware of the tiny trickle of blood running down his neck.

"I am not sure I know what you are talking about. That species is no desert dweller. Come over here, will you. He is getting a bit too heavy for me."

Wrapping his arms around Vader's torso Jix heaved him up a bit, surprised at how slack the other felt. But when Loaz withdrew a slender knife from the Dark Lord's neck he understood. 

"You bastard. You paralyzed him."

"The spinal cord is only injured, not severed completely. But I daresay that he won't be able to move again, no matter how much he concentrates. That is, actually, a good example for my theory. The Jedi's primary weapon is their mind. Unfortunately it is trapped in such a vulnerable vessel. But I don't need him mobile, after all. He is a very independent personality though. I wonder how he will cope with this impediment."

"I think now I hate you even more than before, Loaz."

The Anzat laughed. "Good. Maybe we can build on that, Jixton. Come on. I do not have much time."

Looking into Vader's blue eyes Jix could almost see the other's thoughts. _You are on your own now_, they seemed to say. _But not without help_.For a second Jix could hear the desert being's voice echo in the background, lacing the Dark Lord's reassuring words with a thread of hope. This battle was not lost, and Loaz had made a great mistake. By depriving Vader of his mobility fully by paralyzing him the Anzat had simultaneously relieved him of a great burden, freeing the Sith's mind from any restrictions his ailing body must have placed on him. As long as Loaz did not get the idea to test the chip on the Dark Lord they were safe. And even if he did... Jix had managed to outsmart that cursed chip once and it would be no problem for the Dark Lord to achieve the same. 


	7. The Journey

Chapter 7

The desert wind was tearing at his cloak with a lover's passion and the hot gales caressed his cheeks with dry kisses. He stood atop the dunes just West of Mos Espa under the midday sun, remembering a moment long past. Padmé had worn a simple outfit of loose pants and shirt, both her favorite color, a deep red, as dark as dried blood. They had watched the twin suns of Tatooine retreat behind the horizon, their bright lights dimmed for the night, releasing livid darkness into the world. The shadows had grown longer, racing across the desert sea like a swarm of Narkatha fish trying to catch up with the moonlight. The moment they had reached the couple Anakin had felt Padmé shiver in his arms. 

"What?" he had asked gently.

"I was just thinking."

"Thinking what?"

"How it all ends."

He had turned her around, pressing her close to him, suddenly afraid to lose her. Why would she say something like that at a time like this? And he could feel her fear, oh yes. 

"Padmé," he had begun a bit hesitantly. "Let me tell you something about the desert. This," he had gestured across the endless sea of silver under the light of a full moon, "is my home. The Tusken have another word for the desert, but I cannot pronounce it." He had smiled a bit at the slightly bemused look in her eyes. "Anyway. 'Home' means safety, a sense of belonging, knowing that you can be yourself, that you are accepted. It is here that I feel the Force most. Can you imagine that?"

"I can imagine quite a lot," she had replied softly and snuggled up to him. "But I find it a bit worrying that you love the desert more than you love me, my dear."

He had held her at arm's length, aghast: "How can you say that? I love you more than anything else. Nothing, Padmé, is worth more to me than that love."

"I get it."

"Good."

She had taken a step away, wrapping her arms around her torso, holding her head high. Padmé had studied the glorious scene laid out before them with a keen eye, as if trying to understand what it was that Anakin found so special about it. Of course he had known that she was used to something else, the lush plains of Naboo, the swamps, and even the busy lanes of Coruscant. But to him nothing felt like this. He was at ease here, completely himself. And there was nothing that could distract him.

"Padmé, what I meant was that death has no meaning compared to this. The Tusken don't even have a word for it, did you know that? It is something I find most intriguing, since they are faced with it so often. I mean, life is an endless cycle for them, with no beginning and no end. Just like our love."

"Do you really mean it?"

"Mean what?"

"That our love is forever."

Stepping up to her he had rested his chin on the top of her head gently, had held her close to him. He loved her, and that was the simple truth. And he liked to believe that she felt the same. But he had known what she meant, too. When he had finally answered his voice had been barely a whisper, the quiet words dancing on the cold night air in tiny white clouds that dissipated into the darkness like lonely stars lost somewhere in the universe. Time was like that, as delicate and as hard to hold on to.

"What do you think?"

She had shaken her head slowly: "I do not know. Maybe this is forever. This very moment." Turning around she had looked up and had smiled at him the most radiant of smiles. "Read my mind," she had whispered.

__

That he could do, no problem.

It was true, the moment had lasted forever. But now the desert was a lonely place without her. Desolate and bereft of emotion. The memory itself had become no more than an image of the feelings they had shared that night, nothing real. And the thought that his beloved had turned into a mere shadow hurt more than he cared for. Even now that he had found someone to ease that pain. Daala was so much like Padmé, and even more like himself. It was strange. In a way he had never quite managed to believe that Padmé, that angel she was, had truly come down from the heavens just to be with him. Of all the men she could have had she had chosen him. It was quite unbelievable. With Daala it was different. With her he had the feeling that she was all his, that he did not have to share her with anyone else. And leaving her behind had created another guilty feeling in his mind, making his heart ache. 

He had known very well that he would only return to die, if he returned at all, considering the circumstances. The fact that it would hurt those he loved had made this decision all the harder, and now he felt that his very soul was shackled down with obligations. He was not free, not by a long shot, and not even the desert could ease his restlessness. Heaving a tiny sigh, Anakin started walking toward the distant city, its lights rivaling the few stars that were out tonight. Mos Espa was deserted. For a moment he wondered if it would be the same everywhere his journey would take him. If the Jedi Temple on Coruscant would be as empty as the forests on Endor. No life, no death, simply nothing. It was a frightening prospect. But then the ancient words of the ritual rang through his mind, prompting him to ponder them more closely. 

__

All under Heaven will be yours to command.

She had known. Daala had known the words, but Anakin wondered if she had grasped their full meaning too. No living entity could accomplish that feat, for it demanded much more than this crude matter could offer. It was the kind of enlightenment that led beyond the boundaries of what any mind could fathom. A responsibility that went beyond anything even he could imagine. All of his life had been dedicated to higher causes that had nearly strangled him with their demands and duties. First his commitment to becoming a racer, then a Jedi Knight, a husband, a warlord, a father, grandfather and guardian in the end. And all the while what he had truly desired had been freedom. Freedom to explore the uncharted regions of space, of himself, of the Force, even. But there never had been time for that. 

By now Anakin had realized why he had not been able to make any progress in learning more about Life. Because he had not known himself, had not been himself. To be independent of all obligations was true freedom, but it cost much to overcome the basic desires of a human heart and soul. Love, friendship, peace. All that meant nothing to the Force and was of no importance to the enlightened being. Because all these things defined what he was, were one with what he had to be. All under Heaven. Of late though Anakin had started to doubt his own reasoning. For that was all it was. How was he supposed to know, truly know, what it meant to be in command of the Force? It was mere speculation. And yet. His hunger for knowledge had to be satiated any way he could. But Anakin had long come up against the limits this existence set for him. He had died twice, dissatisfied with his accomplishments, sensing that there was far more than what even the path of the Jedi could offer. Or that of the Sith, for that matter. 

__

Yours is the Darkness. Yours is the Light. One with the Force, there is no death, there is no life. 

Hanging his head he sighed once more. What was left then? No way back, no way forth. He was stuck solid. While his body was slowly slipping towards death, his mind was straining to reach the light of eternal being. Torn that way he knew that he could not ever reach his goal without being broken apart in the process. It was his to decide which path to choose, as it had always been his choice, no matter what people like Gita Deron might believe. Anakin had tried to teach his son that one's commitment to either side of the Force was no shield against harm, was no guarantee for happiness and fulfillment. One had to strive to achieve a state of being one with the Force, with oneself, with everything. Including the Dark Side. Including death. 

Sitting in the President's office together Daala, Palleonand Luke Skywalker were facing both Leia and Gita Deron, who had taken refuge behind the desk. The two women were leaning over the datapad's screen, and both looked pensive. Daala had her arms crossed in front of her chest and Luke could see that her thoughts were far, far away. Next to her Palleon's fingers were tap-dancing on the table top impatiently. It was, Luke thought, a bad sign that these two warriors were so unlike their usual selves. But then, this was no ordinary battle. Gita had told them of her findings concerning Cellcorp and Leia had decided that they should focus on that single corporation. As Luke had found out, it had been Celltec that had supplied the now supposedly malfunctioning transmitter, but he had no authority with the company. As a Jedi Master he found that most people did not give a damn for his title. And he knew that this would have to change fast. 

The government had to side with the new Jedi Order officially, and Tionne was already working on the conditions under which that sort of teamwork would be acceptable. Still, Luke did not want the Jedi to become the New Republic's elite force. The Jedi were supposed to be guardians and they had to remain independent. But as it turned out, this independence had a lot of disadvantages. He had vowed to himself that once this crisis was solved, he would concentrate on establishing the sort of reputation that the Jedi had enjoyed in the Old Republic. Well, maybe slightly different. He remembered his father's lessons vividly, especially his teachings concerning the Dark Side. There is no darkness, Anakin had insisted. All was one, in his mind. 

And he was right, Luke knew. 

Leia looked up and smiled at him reassuringly. She must have sensed his uneasiness. But she was worried too, that he could feel. Everything had gone so fast today, first the arrival of Kyp and Gantoris, then the new details on Cellcorp. And that nagging feeling that they were overlooking something essential. What had his father planned to do? He must be have been aware of the magnitude of this conspiracy. And he must have known that he could not take on them on his own. But then, he wasn't alone. Jixton was with him, after all. Tonight though was the night their enemies could strike at them in earnest. The J.A.F. MediaGroup had announced a special on 'Coruscant Daily' for this evening. Luke had a good idea of what they would make of this most recent news. Add the death of Firek Nab and Turve Glat's close encounter with the Dark Lord on Nar Shadaa and that, along with the attack on the NRI special commando, was enough material to nail the government down, if they played it well. And that they would, Luke was certain of it. 

"Fact is," Gita Deron began, "that we can't move at the moment. They are shielding themselves well and they will delay the inevitable for as long as they can get away with it. Which won't be all too long, but still, tonight is _the_ night, so to say."

"What about that reporter?" Palleon asked quietly. "According to our information he is not only on our side, but also live on the show."

"And he won't leave the studio alive if he stands up to his boss today," Leia put in.

"Who cares?" Daala asked coldly.

Luke turned to look at her and shook his head. "Maybe he has more courage than we think, and besides, I am more worried about Gita's safety than his."

"Thank you for your concern. Another point. We have no idea where your father is and what he is doing, and—"

"He is injured, I know that," Leia said quietly. 

"Worse than that."

All eyes turned on Daala, who rose abruptly to walk over to stand at the viewport. Folding her hands on her back she kept quiet. Luke shared a glance with his sister. But she only shook her head. So, Daala had not talked to her friend and apparently she was not willing to share her thoughts with the rest of them either. 

"Daala, if you have any information that might be helpful, then this might be a good time to tell us," Palleon tried, appealing to reason.

Whirling around she shot them a venomous glare, her green eyes spitting laser-bolts of red-hot fury. She clenched and unclenched her hands, unsure of what to do or what to say. Finally she dropped back into her chair and closed her eyes.

"I had a dream yesterday. I saw him. He is...gone."

"Gone?" Luke jumped up, aghast. "What do you mean?"

"He told you about the desert, right?"

"Yes. So?"

"That's were he is, in the desert."

He stared at her, disbelieving. Why the desert? Anakin wasn't dead, or was he? Groaning softly Luke shook his head in dismay. 

"This cannot be right. I would know if anything had happened to him!"

"Maybe it was just a nightmare," Leia injected soothingly. "Whatever it is,"she continued a bit shakily, "we cannot count on him, that is for sure."

Luke gave her a long look. But he did not reply, even though there were a million thoughts going on in his head. Father could not be dead. If he were... No, better not to think of that. They had lived with that fear long enough, that they would lose him again. No more. Mara had told him that death might be something else for Anakin than it was for his son. Maybe she was right. Maybe the desert was not what he thought it was. And perhaps there was a way back. 

He had to admit that he was nervous. But then, he was planning on getting very famous today. And if he wasn't careful, he would also be very dead. Turve stood in front of a full-length mirror, trying to ignore the fact that the finely cut suit could not disguise his heavy bulk. Well, and his short size. Sighing a bit, he resorted to studying his face, which seemed acceptable. And hopefully people would listen to his words and not judge him by his appearance. Judgement. He remembered Vader in the court-room and compared that man to the Dark Lord he had met on Nar Shadaa. And he really pitied whoever got in the Sith's way. Straightening his suit Turve smoothed down his hair again. Well, he had done all he could. Now was the time to see if his gamble would really turn out the way he had planned.

Jix had dropped down to the floor and was watching Loaz pensively. The Anzat was bent over the Dark Lord who had been strapped down on his 'bed' again. Various cables connected his body to even more panels and monitors and five equally white-clad aides were fussing about Loaz and the 'patient'. Two guards were looming over Jix, but he paid them no heed. Now was not the time to fight. Not that he could have. Loaz was eyeing him from time to time, a thin smile on his lips. And the Corellian could well imagine what was going on in the alien's head. 

"Brain activity has increased again," one of the aides informed them quietly.

"Pulse and heart-beat?"

"Slowing down."

Loaz closed his eyes for a moment: "All symptoms point toward a coma, but, considering the brain activity, that cannot be." Leaning very close to the seemingly unconscious prisoner he whispered: "I promised that I would find out what you did, remember? You cannot hide from me, wherever you are."

Jix' ears perked up. What did the doctor mean? If he found a way to control Vader's mind... 

"Sir, the chip..," one of the aides began tentatively. 

"No. We cannot possibly convince the New Republic to control the Jedi that way. Not yet, that is. But once the Princess and her brother are out of our way... And that annoying Deron." He turned around to smile at Jix openly. The agent shook his head.

"Don't even think about it," he told the Anzat.

"Ah, but it would be poetic justice. _You_ will kill his children."

"Sure. Where's the justice in that? Not even to speak of poetry. Empty words and empty threats, Loaz. Those never worked on me before either."

"Quite the philosopher, aren't you. You have no choice, Jixton. And you will be away from me. Can't I goad you with even that?"

"You aren't afraid that I might slip away again?"

"Not in the least."

"Tell people about all this?"

The Anzat's eyes narrowed dangerously. "There is that danger, yes. But I am not so stupid that I would let you go just like that. " He smiled a bit. "You are an investment, Jixton, nothing more."

"So?"

"I daresay that we have the means to force you into obedience. We will take care of the details later tonight or maybe tomorrow. After all, we have all the time in the world." 

"Don't be so sure about that," Jix warned. "The New Republic is already on your trail."

"And what do you think they can do? We are safe here. They will not risk a conflict with the Hutts, not now. That would only blunt their strategy. I do not believe that the Princess will risk being portrayed as another Emperor Palpatine."

"What about Vader?"

Loaz reached out to trace his right hand along the Dark Lord's neck slowly. There was a dreamy look in his eyes, paired with a tiny glint of something more. Apparently he was bent on solving the Sith's secret. And frankly Jix wanted to know what was going on too. Vader had done this before, after the Anzat's first attack, as if his mind had broken free of his body. Jix imagined a great beast running the length of its leash until it was stopped short by the cruel chain. Right now Vader was running again and the agent hoped sincerely that he could escape this time. That was, if Loaz did not catch him first and dragged him back. 

"A very intriguing tactic," the Anzat mused. "But he is overlooking something essential. His mind is part of his body, not a separate entity."

"How do you know?" Jix challenged him. "I daresay that I could rip your head off, root around in your brain and still not find a trace of your mind."

"I know what you mean, believe me, without you putting it in so graphic detail. I of all beings should, don't you think? I have tasted him, tasted his very soul and being. He cannot escape me."

"But you haven't managed to catch up to him yet."

"Not yet, that is true. But I will convince him in the end."

"Sir, we have the means to bring him back easily..."

"He is a Sith, no ordinary man."

"With permission, he has been easy to handle up until—" 

"Easy to handle?" Rounding on the unfortunate aide Loaz snarled: "He has managed to break out once and if I had not paralyzed him he would do so again. His mind is what we have to fight, not his body. And he is guarding himself well."

"You won't get around those defenses," Jix told him confidently.

"We shall see."

But Jix merely shook his head. Rising slowly he nodded at Loaz and let himself be led away. Throwing a last look at Vader he wondered what the Dark Lord was up to. Or if he was truly defeated. Well, he surely did not like Loaz' plans for him and he vowed to himself that he would not let the Anzat dictate his actions. Yeah, as if he had a choice. He had to warn the New Republic. But how? 

Luke was sitting on the sofa, bent over his datapad pensively. He had been able to make some progress this afternoon at least and that was mostly thanks to Leia and Mara. Leia had let him have a look at the morgue to question the doctor who had overseen the autopsy of Firek Nab and quite a few interesting facts could be found there: first, there were two reports on the autopsy. One official version and another one. The doctor he had questioned had implied as much, although he had seemed loath to give the secret away. But, Luke thought in satisfaction, being a Jedi Master still seemed to impress some people after all.

The doctor had told him that the judge's death seemed like a natural one, but that there had been an extensive damage to her brain. The man had not been sure how such a thing was possible, but after checking with Mara the Jedi Master now knew more. Apparently there was an alien species, the Anzati, who killed their prey exactly this way, by devouring the brain. 

Second, the fact that the official report had made it through the channels narrowed the range of suspects down to those who had or might have access to that sort of information. Most of them could be found in the government's legal department and the Court. It made great sense for his opponents to have allies in these areas. Which led to a very interesting question: had Firek Nab been one of the conspirators? He had thought very hard on that possibility, especially in regard to the malfunctioning transmitter. What purpose did the thing have anyway? If Anakin had been sentenced to death, why would they need to track him? Had they anticipated his bold move or had they expected another sentence? In that case the judge's death became something more than a senseless murder.

And Leia had reminded him of the fact that Firek Nab had had a doctor title in genetic engineering and Mara had found out that Nab had had quite an extensive work record with Celltec before she had gone into legal business. Interesting indeed. 

Right now he was trying to find a connection that could prove that the judge had ordered the Dark Lord to be implanted with the transmitter. Unfortunately the court documents were on loan to the J.A.F. MediaGroup for preparation of tonight's show and the Court's server was being serviced right now. A remarkable coincidence. But Gita had warned them, hadn't she. Luke had the sinking feeling that everything depended on Turve Glat. Not a very comforting thought. 

His comm chimed at him suddenly and he answered the call, a happy smile appearing on his face when he saw who was calling.

"Mara! Any progress?"

"You bet," she told him grimly. "Karrde and I have spent the whole day rooting through their system."

"And you found what?"

"A message sent over Karrde's account. But he never wrote it."

"And?"

"It was by chance, really, because Karrde got bored and checked his comm account. Someone must have hacked into the system, but was interrupted before he could cover his traces. Maybe whoever he talked to cut the transmission short and spoiled the program. Anyway. It was no professional."

"Do you know who?"

"No. We do know it was a live link and it was sent to your father's special account on Nar Shadaa. Only someone who knew his codes could have activated the link."

"Then they were expecting him there."

"Apparently."

"He has found them, then. Thank you. Nothing else?"

"Not yet. We are trying to trace the link and have a look at the program."

"Good luck."

"Are you going to watch Coruscant Daily tonight?"

"Sure. Why?"

"Because someone has to keep a watchful eye over our reporter friend. If he makes his move tonight he'll be in big trouble."

"I have asked Kyp and Gantoris to take care of that. He knows them, after all."

"Alright. I'll be back home soon."

"Great! I'll be waiting for you. We can go over to Leia's office together."

"Sure. See you later."

Luke's smile died abruptly once she had cut the transmission. This whole affair was taking too much of their time, he just knew. And he hated the fact that he and Mara were always too busy to meet during the daytime. The same as Leia and Han. She had already complained to her brother that she was feeling bad because she was neglecting her children and her husband. But there it was. That was the price they had to pay. And sometimes he asked himself for what they were paying at all. 

Daala had declined Leia's offer to join her family and friends to watch this night's report on Coruscant Daily in her office. Instead she had curled up on her sofa, a thick blanket wrapped around herself, and stared moodily into the distance. The dream had disturbed her mightily, and she could not forget the look in those blind blue eyes. She liked to believe that it had not been her desperate call that had somehow reached him, but that he had decided on his own to come to her. He had told her about the desert, about Tatooine folklore and the Tusken raiders. And Daala understood that to him the desert was both a place of peace and safety as well as a challenge, the ultimate one. A place of life and death, somehow inbetween heaven and earth. Looking at Anakin, at his deeds and at his views she could easily identify that contradiction in his life too. He was craving challenges and action the same as he was craving peace and freedom. Nothing seemed to satisfy him and his restlessness was unbroken. Daala could well imagine him like a comet streaking across the sky, beautiful to look at and deadly, and she was torn between wanting to hold him close and keeping her distance. "Anakin," she whispered, wishing that he would come to stay. But this time there was no answer. 

Feeling Han's hands on her shoulders Leia tried to relax, but not even her husband's massage could ease the tension. Her eyes were fixed on the holoscreen and like everyone else present she had to fight to keep her agitation from getting the better of her. Even Fey'lya seemed tense. For a moment Leia felt a pang of guilt that she had had no time to try and convince Daala to join them. She should not be alone now. On the screen the anchorman of Coruscant Daily had just made his appearance. At her side Luke folded his hands in his lap and sat up straighter while Mara shot him an almost motherly smile. Next to her Gita Deron frowned deeply and straightened her glasses, then leaned forward to see better. Leia gave them all a small smile. 

"Are you all ready for the big one?" she asked with just a hint of irony in her tone.

They nodded absent-mindedly, one by one. Han leaned down to kiss her cheek, then sat down beside her, trying not to disturb the children who were cuddled together on the sofa usually reserved for guests. But Leia would not let them get out of her sight again. Anakin had warned her explicitly and she knew that taking her father's advice was always reasonable.

"Gentlebeings of the New Republic, welcome to this special report of Coruscant Daily," the Twi'lek newsspeaker began with a smile. "Fifteen days ago Coruscant was once more the focus of attention." He flashed another smile. "But instead of political intrigues and never-ending Senate scheming, the New Republic center had one common goal it shared with the people of the New Republic. This one goal was justice. Justice for the horrible deeds done by one man: Anakin Skywalker, better known as Darth Vader, Dark Lord of the Sith and trusted right-hand man of the late Emperor Palpatine." 

Folding his hands elegantly on the top of his desk the Twi'lek's face turned solemn: "Darth Vader was sentenced to death fifteen days ago. Now he is roaming free again. Why, we ask ourselves, has the New Republic not been able to control him despite knowing what he is capable of? There are many possible answers to this question and in this special we will explore them all to our best knowledge. As our first report we have Turve Glat on the happenings on Nar Shadaa."

Leia leaned back to rest her head against Han's chest, feeling his heart-beat. They could only watch now, there was nothing they could do. Not anymore. On the screen the corpulent reporter appeared in a short trailer before the image swirled into a set of small films with his voice commenting on the happenings. 

"Fellow gentlebeings, the events on Nar Shadaa can only be described as astounding. Your faithful reporter was kidnapped by the convicted Anakin Skywalker and his accomplice, the known assassin Wrenga Jixton, on Coruscant shortly after the convict had made his escape from prison. After an incident with New Republic security that resulted in the deaths of three inspectors at the hands of Wrenga Jixton, we spent approximately two days in waiting at Nar Shadaa. And what followed..." 

Next was the confrontation at the hangar bay filmed by security cameras. Leia watched Luke lean forward in interest, his eyes fixed on the battle between Anakin, Kyp and Gantoris. Gita Deron was frowning at the hardly visible form of Wrenga Jixton, who was moving through the NRI team like a whirlwind. He was quite impressive, Leia had to admit. She heard Luke bark a short, incredulous laugh and when she looked over at her brother he was smiling. 

"They are a great team, those two," he commented fondly. But Fey'lya shushed him immediately when Glat proceeded with the follow-up report.

"The astounding news is this," Turve was just saying. "The Dark Lord has told me specifically, and the survivors of the NRI team can confirm this, that he will return to Coruscant at the date set for his execution. Fifteen days from now we shall see if he will keep his promise. Thank you for your attention. This is Turve Glat, reporting for Coruscant Daily."

As the first block of commercials droned on Palleon shared a glance with Leia and leaned back in his seat, looking disappointed. "He did not even mention the transmitter or the transmission from Karrde's account," he told them.

"Chances are that he had no idea about either," Luke put in reasonably, but Leia shook her head.

"No. Remember what Glat told us? That Father wanted him to act as a diversion. But he knew that there was no way the reporter would let a chance like that slip away. So Turve called his boss, who initiated the link, only waiting for Anakin to check his account."

"But the message was sent a week before they even arrived on Nar Shadaa," Mara mused pensively.

"Then they were expecting him to be onplanet before that?" Fey'lya seemed aghast. "Why?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Everyone turned to look at Gita Deron who was watching the commercials with a deep frown. "Firek Nab worked for Celltec and if we assume, and I think we can safely do that, that she had the transmitter implanted, but chose not to activate it, where does that leave us?"

"What you are saying then," the Bothan senator began, "is that the judge had a sudden change of heart and sentenced him to death rather than whatever she had planned before? A judge who was truly dedicated to justice. Amazing."

Ignoring his sarcasm Leia rose abruptly. This was it, she just knew. And from the look in her brother's eyes she could see that he felt it too. The truth. They were so close to uncovering the scheme! "They expected him to be free and maybe even to get on their trail. The transmitter would have served as a means to track his progress. But why? Why not simply have him executed and be done with it? What was the purpose of all this?"

Mara shrugged. "If we could talk to your father or Jixton we might learn more."

"Which leaves the big question," Palleon finished for her: "Where are they?"

"Ssh. The break is over."

Leia resumed her seat quickly. The Twi'lek newsspeaker appeared again, this time standing in front of the Senate Chamber. Behind him a few senators and aides were giving him curious looks and threw a few smiles at the recorders, but he did not seem to be fazed by the attention. Turning toward his audience calmly he gave them a solemn nod:

"The revered Senate Chamber became the court-room where the trial of Darth Vader took place. This decision was made by the Court to accommodate the vast crowd of onlookers this public trial attracted. It was the first in the history of the as of young New Republic and we all remember the happenings and events accompanying the proceedings. The New Republic government at first refused a public trial, but the Court could make its claim legitimate, that this trial was more than any other conviction, but in the interest of all people of this galaxy."

The image faded into a recording of the live coverage done by Coruscant Daily during the trial, focusing on Gita and Ur'tek before a camera swooped low to capture the cool expression on the defendant's face. All the while the Twi'lek droned on with his tale.

"Here the battle between the prosecution headed by Mister Ur'tek and the defense lead by Miss Gita Deron was ended very abruptly by the defendant himself. An unexpected move. But a closer look at the events shows that it might only have been instinctive. Three days previous to that show-stopping incident former Imperial Admiral Daala, reportedly the defendant's consort, had been attacked by an angry mob and severely injured. The attack had sparked an equally violent reaction on the part of the Dark Lord, an outbreak that left one man injured: his own son, Jedi Master Luke Skywalker."

A dramatic pause ensued during which the recording showed the tumultuous chaos in front of the prison after Anakin had already been overwhelmed by an exceptionally courageous or alternately highly suicidal guard. Newsdroids and newsspeakers could be heard jabbering away in the background over the howling of sirens and the shouting of security personnel. It did look quite dramatic, Leia had to admit, even though nothing had really happened, thanks to her brother's intervention.

"Two days later Anakin Skywalker was sentenced to death and he would have died exactly today, if the defense had not been able to appeal to Judge Firek Nab to postpone the date of execution by fifteen days. Fifteen days, my fellow gentlebeings, fifteen days are left until that date. Now, let us examine what happened right after the sentence was spoken."

Tensing slightly Leia felt Han's hands on her shoulders again, trying to soothe her. But she shook him off and leaned forward almost eagerly. Across the room she could see Fey'lya react the same way although he tried to disguise it. An older recording of Coruscant Daily appeared on the screen: the Twi'lek reporting on the new regulations the President had proposed and had managed to get past the Senate. The image turned into the newsspeaker standing in front of the new Cellcorp headquarters on Coruscant. Gita groaned softly in exasperation.

"Immediately after her own father's conviction President Leia Organa Solo seized the opportunity to make changes in the Trade Charter. Internal sources report that it was a spur-of-the-moment decision, not a program planned beforehand. What had happened? Senator Borsk Fey'lya, representative of Bothawui and stound opposer of President Organa Solo's politics, was so gracious as to give us a comment."

The Bothan harrumphed once and shifted in his seat uncomfortably as he watched his own image tell the audience quite smugly that he suspected a conspiracy by the President and her former Imperial allies. The comment was a fluke, of course, but apparently it had not failed to make the impact they had desired. Fey'lya elaborated on the President's arguments and tried to criticize their validity. But to the spectators' it must seem that he was making a complete fool of himself, citing economic numbers, budgets and agricultural catastrophes that Gita had uncovered concerning Agracorp and Celltec. Why, they had to be asking themselves, can't he see the connection there? It surprised Leia really that the editors on Coruscant Daily had failed to notice the ruse. 

But maybe they believed that it could not harm them anyway. Next was part of the recording of a press conference Leia had given on the subject and a podium discussion featuring a heated argument between herself and the Bothan. It was great, a real comedy played almost to perfection. Leia could feel Han's smugness and satisfaction as well as she could feel her own. As the commercials started flirring across the screen again she could not suppress a relieved laugh and she could see Mara grin too. 

"You know," a pensive Luke said suddenly, "he asked why the government could not control him despite knowing his capabilities. I was just thinking... What if Celltec was planning something that could have controlled him?"

"A new product?" Gita asked, looking doubtful.

"Why not? Just as Leia could profit from the trial to push her program through, they could have had a test object for — I don't know. Whatever."

Fey'lya shook his head gravely: "I believe that you are going a bit too far with that assumption, Master Skywalker. We have found no evidence anywhere that Celltec was planning to introduce a new product."

"Which doesn't mean that they might not have planned it."

"You are thinking of the transmitter, aren't you?"

"Exactly."

"Still, we have no proof. And I daresay that we won't find any even if we acquire a search warrant for their headquarters."

"You are right. It was just an idea."

For a while they kept silent, the only sound the endless jabbering and jingles of the commercials and a few sighs from one or the other of the small assembly. They did not even look up when the special continued, each deeply immersed in their own thoughts. It was astounding that the mood had changed so suddenly, but somehow the uncertainty concerning Anakin's fate had put a blanket of worry over all of them. Leia heaved a deep sigh, trying to concentrate on the report again. 

She lifted the half-filled glass of Corellian brandy to her lips slowly, keeping her eyes fixed on the screen. A small voice of reason told her that she had drunk too much, but Daala did not care. She did not want to care about anything, all she wanted was just one blissful hour of peace, without her fear constantly nagging at the back of her mind. Taking another sip she hugged her knees closer to her chest. It was unfair, so unfair. When she moved her hand to place the glass on the small table next to the sofa she lost her grip and watched it shatter on the floor with a loud thud and jingle. Daala stared at the coruscating splinters dumbfounded. Then, very slowly, she put her bare feet on the floor and walked over to the holovid to turn it off. But then something caught her attention. The report was showing a poll on the public opinion on the government and frankly it did not look too good. Still, the comment spoke of a crisis. A crisis. 

Daala huffed a mirthless laugh and stepped back, feeling dizzy. The sharp pain cutting into the sole of her left foot brought her out of her stupor sharply and her eyes flew wide open when she saw a tall alien appear on the screen. The spokesman for the Research and Development Division of Cellcorp. An Anzat. Daala froze. Dropping back onto the sofa she ignored her bleeding foot. But then the report finished with a range of public statements on the whole affair citizens from all over the galaxy voiced there opinion either timidly or vehemently, but none seemed to have a neutral position. Not surprising to the former admiral. She cast her eyes down and turned off the holovid with a flick of her hand. The silence took her into its cold embrace. So cold. Shivering a bit she rose and went to the fresher and immediately to bed afterwards. Only when she noticed the red foot-prints in the light colored carpet did she remember the glass splinters. Tears began streaming down her cheeks as she sat on the bed heavily, the drink making her feel more sentimental than she wanted too. But it was simply too much for her. 

Jix glared at the construct he had been strapped into, testing the metal shackles listlessly. He could not even move his head. At the other end of the room Loaz was busy with some nasty looking instruments and two of his interchangeable aides handed him more of those things. For a brief moment the Corellian wondered if the Anzat was going to use all of them on him. The doctor walked over to him with an absent-minded expression on his dark face. 

"You are in perfect shape. The slight modifications should not interfere with your mobility."

"Modifications?" Jix asked, not understanding.

"Of course. We only needed to add a few programs to the chip. What we have to do now is prepare you to act as interface."

"One question. Loaz: why not simply take a cyborg?"

"Because you are human. You have your instincts, your inborn desire to survive. You are intelligent and you know when to stand back. All I need to do is guide your actions a bit."

"Great. What if I don't want that guidance?"

"Ah. You are an independent creature, of course, but unfortunately I have neither the time nor the desire to gain your trust first."

"You wouldn't get it anyway."

"Just what I thought. So. What we are going to do is this: the chip allows us direct access to your nerve centers. I can, if you will, even see with your eyes. But there are a few precautions we have to take. Speech, for example. As you have stated yourself we cannot just let you tell people about all of this. So, this will hurt just a bit."

Raising the sharp scalpel he had hidden in the pocket of his long, white overcoat Loaz stroked a hand gently over Jix' throat. The agent froze. Damn! What was the doctor doing there? The sharp pain made him scream, but to his great shock his vocal cords refused to work. 

"Ssh. Don't try to talk. The wound will heal and if you behave I will repair the damage again."

Jix' face turned into a wild grimace of fury. But he refrained from giving the Anzat the satisfaction of getting him riled enough to try and kick him. Loaz smiled at him: "Good. Good. You really are a quick learner. And you will find that this will become easier the less you struggle against it. Your cooperation will be rewarded and your resistance..," he smiled slowly, "will be punished." 

Jix ground his teeth. Well. There was really nothing he could do about it. So he willed himself to relax, closing his eyes to avoid the sight of Loaz' satisfied expression. He had to do _something_!

__

But not just yet.

It was nighttime and the stars sprawled across the sky were blinking like diamonds on velvet satin. He was leaning his head back and closed his eyes, drawing in the dry, cold air hungrily. Looking down he was a child again, standing at the edge of the small town, his gaze fixed into the distance longingly. 

__

His mother was calling his name but he did not turn around or answer. Scurrying out, further into the dunes, he could feel the night air wrap itself around his small body like a cold blanket. The sky was covered with stars, millions of them sparkled in the darkness. 

He had been awestruck, Anakin remembered, just like he was now, and had stared up at the universe for an eternity. Nothing had disturbed the silence of that moment and he had only gradually become aware of the sound of trickling sand. 

__

Little Anakin shook his head in bewilderment, feeling dizzy, and tried to find the source of his sudden uneasiness. But the night was full of shadows. And the voice was too soft to hear at first. It caressed his face with the gentle touch of the warm desert wind, the words like hushed whispers. He stood in the dark, shivering, as the figure came toward him slowly, its long cloak flapping in the wind like the wings of a giant black bird. Craning his neck Anakin tried to make out the stranger's face, but it was hidden in shadows.

"Hello, little one." The voice was the most beautiful Anakin had ever heard.

"Hello," he answered timidly.

"Have you lost your way?"

He shook his head no and pointed: "I live over there."

"I see. And you are out here all alone? Are you not afraid?"

Again a negative. Anakin was curious: "Who are you?"

"A friend."

"Really? Whose friend?" he asked innocently.

"Those who wander the desert alone sometimes lose their way, their selves even."

"And you bring them back home?"

"In a sense."

"What if they have no home?"

"The desert is their home. I am their guardian."

"Do you come to the little Tusken too when they are lost?" 

"You know a great many things, for one so young."

Anakin nodded eagerly. "When I am grown I will travel to all the stars in the galaxy."

The stranger laughed quietly, the chiming sound lifting the boy's heart higher. 

"All under heaven are one, little one. What do you need the stars for?"

"I want to see them."

"But you can see them now, can't you?"

"I want to see them real close."

"Ah." Kneeling in front of him the other nodded slowly. "You are curious. That is good. But keep this in mind: your focus determines your reality, little one. Imagine the stars looking down at you. What would they see?"

Anakin stared at him, dumb-founded. 

"They would see the universe and the desert. Everything," he answered, an adult once more, and looked down at the kneeling stranger. "And they would see me, just as I see you too." 

The being smiled up at him, blue eyes clear and alert. "You have learned, Anakin Skywalker."

"It took too much time."

"Time, my son, has no meaning. You know that, don't you?"

Anakin shook his head gravely: "We are creatures of life and death. But you are right, the moment itself is forever."

"Tell me then what forever means to you."

"Existence, nothing less. Pure being, free of any restrictions. To see all, be all, feel all." 

"All under heaven—"

"Are one with the Force," Anakin finished.

"As you will be too. I will be waiting for you, my child."

"I know."

They shared a smile and then he turned around, content once more. He had found his way and now there was just one last thing to do, one final mission to accomplish. Behind him he heard the rustle of cloth as the desert being rose slowly. But he would not look back. He had faced death often enough. Now was the time to return to the living. 

She must have fallen asleep after all. But the cold air blowing over her scantily dressed body brought her back into consciousness again ever so gently. Blinking her eyes Daala stared at the wall opposite from her muzzily. A hand was moving down her left thigh tenderly, the delicate touch paralyzing her for precious seconds. Her heart was pounding in her ears when she felt the caress continue over the soft curve of her hip and waist. Then it was gone again, leaving her shivering in the dark. "Anakin?" she whispered, her voice trembling with hope and despair. He kissed her, tentatively at first, then with greater passion, and she could feel the tears flowing again, the salty taste of them on her lips mingled with the taste of him in her mouth. 

She had closed her eyes, not wanting to open them again only to discover that he was not really there, that it had all been an illusion. When he cupped her chin in his left hand she slid her cheek over his palm slowly, savoring the warmth of his touch. She could hear him sigh deeply and the sound brought a smile on her lips. But that was not enough for her. She wanted to touch him too, wanted to believe that he was not just another dream. The relief suddenly pouring through her very soul made her shake uncontrollably until he stopped the shivers by wrapping her in his arms gently. Daala gasped softly as the tension fled from her. 

"Anakin," she said again and felt his face so close to hers that she simply had to kiss him. She could feel his smile under her lips.

"What?" he asked and the warmth in his rough voice electrified her like the soft caress of the hot desert wind. 

"I think my heart just stopped."

TBC


	8. Beyond the Desert

Chapter 8

Turve was rocking back and forth on his heels as he awaited his cue behind the studio's huge stage. The hostess of the late night live show was still talking to that damn Wookiee senator and the rest of the guests were already looking bored. Including Jellan. As head of the J.A.F. MediaGroup he had felt it his duty to comment on the happenings too, as the voice of the public, so to speak. And he had asked Turve to back him up. The reporter was grinning madly to himself when he was finally waved into the spotlights. Making his way to his seat slowly Glat started fidgeting nervously and wiped a hand over his sweaty forehead. Jellan gave him a reassuring smile as he dropped down next to him. 

"Mister Glat, welcome to the show," the attractive blonde hostess told him and roused a small round of applause from the audience. Turve tried to loosen his collar, but failed miserably.

"Thank you," he managed.

"Mister Glat, you have been able to follow the discussion so far from behind the stage. As an eye-witness we would like to get your view on the happenings on Nar Shadaa."

The Wookiee senator gave Turve an expectant look, daring him to say anything against his theory about the President and her grab for power. Swallowing once Turve cleared his throat, a waxen smile on his glistening face.

"Well, we all know that people learn from their mistakes and I daresay that Madam Organa Solo has certainly learned from her opponents. I need not remind you of that unfortunate affair right before the Empire and the New Republic became one. Thenpresident Borsk Fey'lya had arranged a wide-spread conspiracy to trap not only Organa Solo, but also her father. It nearly worked out too."

At his side he saw Jellan flinch ever so slightly. And immediately his boss had a retort:

"But let us not forget that Lord Skywalker himself is a master of manipulations. No wonder that some of that skill rubbed off on his daughter."

"I did not say anything against that, but I do not see what she could have gained by the incident on Nar Shadaa. Only bad publicity."

"Really? She sent troops there to hunt down her father. My guess is that she wanted to prove to the public that she wasn't playing favorites," Jellan countered.

"And yet she sanctioned the trial. I believe that was convincing enough."

"Maybe it was her who sent this Jixton to free her father, who knows?"

"Who knows indeed," Turve smiled slowly. "I for one, know for certain that Wrenga Jixton obeys just one man, if at all, and that man is Anakin Skywalker."

"And what does that prove?"

"That Jixton came to the Dark Lord on his own, for his own purposes."

"What purpose?" Jellan almost snarled.

Spreading his arms in an appeasing gesture Turve shrugged once.

"I guess it has to do with the incidents back on Ryloth shortly before the battle of Endor. Reportedly the heads of a slave trader ring were assassinated back then."

"That is hardly news," Jellan snorted.

"Indeed. Strangely enough one of these allegedly murdered slave traders made a commentary on the current situation just an hour ago on the special report of Coruscant Daily."

"What?"

Turve grinned at his boss' frozen expression: "I have done my homework, you know? This Doctor Loaz is not unknown. He has just been conveniently forgotten."

"Mister Glat," the hostess began, uncertainty tingeing her voice: "What are you saying?"

"I am saying that a Cellcorp official spoke against a government that is threatening to take a closer look at his facilities. At the same time that Wrenga Jixton and Anakin Skywalker have been reported missing on a mission to uncover some sort of conspiracy."

"They will be too late," Jellan hissed.

For a few agonizing seconds the sudden silence dragged on as the meaning of his half-whispered words sank in. Turve drew a deep, deep breath, edging a bit away from his boss instinctively.

"Mister Jellan, do you want to comment on that?" the hostess asked coolly, sensing that there was more to come. But Jellan had himself under control again and flashed her a toothy smile.

"I do not believe so. If I may excuse myself?"

"_We_ certainly will not hold you," she told him politely and Turve jumped when Jellan rose abruptly, brushing past, his last words for the reporter's ears only:

"You are dead."

Frozen in his seat Turve gave a small sound, then forced a desperate smile on his lips. The hostess nodded at him slowly.

"Mister Glat, we would highly appreciate to hear more of that story. If you will?"

"Certainly."

Standing at the stage entrance, Gantoris was folding his arms in front of his chest with a smug expression on his weathered face. Next to him Kyp Durron was bristling with fury. 

"Seems I came just in time to miss the show," Luke commented as he joined the two Jedi Knights.

"He was brilliant," Gantoris told him with a smile and nodded at Turve, who was gesturing wildly as he told his tale.

"Where is his boss?"

"Out. Undoubtedly his lawyers will try to shield him for as long as they can. And besides, these late shows usually don't have much of an audience out there."

"This one does for sure," Kyp told them with a smile.

"Well, now we certainly know who to talk to. I will ask Leia to call in with Cellcorp tomorrow to arrange a meeting with this Loaz."

"An Anzat. The judge's killer?" Kyp mused.

"Maybe."

The younger Jedi turned cool blue eyes on his master: "Do you think he was right?"

"About what?"

"When he said that we will be too late."

Luke heaved a deep sigh and closed his eyes for a moment. But he had been asking himself the same question and he owed Kyp an answer: "I am not sure. We do not know exactly what he meant, after all. Perhaps this has nothing to do with Father."

"Master Skywalker, do you sincerely believe that?"

"No."

With his hands still holding on to her she felt his body draw away slowly.

"I have to go," he whispered.

"Will you come back?"

"I will be with you, wherever you are. You know that, don't you?"

Daala raised her head from his shoulder, trying to catch his eye.

"Ssh. Don't." 

His whispered words cut into her heart cruelly as he lay a hand gently over her face, forcing her to close her eyes again. Daala felt his cool skin on her forehead, his left thumb stroking her brow slowly. He was trying to soothe her and she could feel his anguish over having to disappoint her yet again. It was as if he had read her thoughts before she had even known herself what to think. Daala's mouth worked furiously and her mind was racing, trying to come up with any possible retort that might force him to reconsider. But she knew that any attempt on her part would be futile.

"Why?" she asked at last, her voice almost too low to hear. 

"This battle is not over yet."

"We can help you. Just tell me where you are."

He hesitated at first. "You cannot help me," he told her finally, making her heart clench in dread.

"Tell me where!"

"It is an experimental facility on Ylesia. But do not worry. I am prepared to fight this alone."

Daala flinched at the sheer menace in his tone. "Will you lose?"

His low chuckle sent shivers down her spine. When he bent closer she could feel his warm breath on her neck. "I never lose," he told her, his hoarse voice laced with determination and gentle reproach at her lack of faith. 

And then he was gone again. 

Daala sat up and stared at the viewport where the rising sun was already starting to paint the sky in orange and gold. Why did he have to torment her so? To come back here, filling her with hope, only to dissolve into a dream, a memory. She felt betrayed, in a way, not only by him, but also by herself. After all, she had let him go, she had sent him on this mission. He would have stayed here and they could have spent the time together. Thirty days with him instead of apart. _I dare not return alive._ Remembering the words of the ritual, she shook her head violently, sending her red mane flying. Anakin Skywalker always dared. And if he did not come back... She knew that he trusted her, trusted her strength and will to survive. Anakin did not want her to suffer and yet he was yearning for her the same way he was yearning for his freedom. He was a caged bird she had to let go once and for all. 

"I love you," she said and closed her eyes as the echoes died away in the shadows.

"Brain activity is decreasing."

"Pulse and heart-beat are speeding up."

He opened his eyes slowly, the ghost of a smile on his lips and tears in his eyes. Her love and trust was all he could ask for. In the beginning he had worried about hurting Daala further, but in a way their being together one last time was his going away gift for her and a declaration of independence for both of them. She was letting him go once more and the fact itself showed Anakin that she had grown in strength too. It was cruel, in a way, but nothing could change what he felt for her, no matter what. And he sincerely hoped that she had understood that at last. 

Gradually he focused his senses on the two aides who had apparently been on duty monitoring his life-signs. They were studying the readouts intently and none of them gave him a second glance. A movement to his right caught Anakin's attention and then Loaz' smiling face came into view. The Anzat's dark eyes were gleaming with hidden malice as he bent over his prisoner.

"I knew that it could not last," he purred.

Anakin almost laughed at that. 

"Now, since you are so kind as to grace us with your presence again, we can finally proceed with this experiment." The doctor leaned closer and Anakin could feel him stroke the side of his neck gently. "Bring him into a vertical position," he ordered at last.

Once they were facing each other again Anakin let his eyelids flutter ever so slightly, delighting in the sudden alarm in the Anzat's eyes. 

"No, you won't leave again this time. Adrenaline, fast!"

His mind dancing with the sudden rush of the artificial hormones Anakin let his eyes fly open wide, as if in surprise, but Loaz shook a finger at him playfully.

"Ah, ah," he admonished him gently with just a hint of mockery in his tone. "You are connected to sensors that allow us to interpret your nerves' activities. So you see, we will know when you are trying to give us a false reaction. A bit more cooperation please, if you will." Loaz smiled: "I believe that I shall enjoy this greatly."

This time the Dark Lord really did wheeze a short laugh. Apparently he would have to be more careful. But, on the other hand, it was just a game he was playing, stalling for time, nothing more. He knew that the Anzat wanted to uncover a way to fend off a Jedi's mind and it was amusing to see that the doctor had completely forgotten that there were other ways to get at the truth. Additionally it was against the Code to force one's way into another's thoughts without permission, as the Anzat should know. The fact that he did not seem to care convinced Anakin that Loaz did not fear the Jedi, not at all. He simply wanted a way to control them. Which was why he had resolved to break into the Dark Lord's mind by any means. Well, he could certainly try. Preparing himself for the last round, Anakin idly thought about the different ways the doctor could go about this, laying out his possible defenses and counterstrikes. As he pondered his options though, Anakin suspected that there would be surprises for both of them. 

It was the next morning. Looking up from her desk Leia did not recognize her friend at first. Daala seemed so vital, much more herself than she had appeared over the past few days. There was a certain spring in her step and a sparkle in her eyes. Something had happened, that was for sure. Rising fast the Princess came around the desk to take the taller woman in a warm embrace. Daala smiled at her and returned the hug fiercely.

"Did you watch the report yesterday?" Leia asked at last. Daala nodded curtly.

"Interesting, wasn't it?" she commented and dropped into one of the visitor chairs.

"Yes. We have a few leads now. Anything you found out?"

"The Anzat, this Doctor Loaz. I think it was him who killed the judge."

Leia nodded. "Yes, but I am not sure why he would do it himself."

"There are not so many Anzati around, especially not so many assassins. In fact I know of only one, Dannik Jericho."

Leia tensed. "I have heard of him too."

"Find out where he is now. I am sure Karrde can help you. And I would advise you to talk to this Loaz."

"I have already arranged a meeting, but I am not sure if he will agree."

"Maybe you can goad him into an confession."

"It is certainly worth a try." Hesitating a bit Leia watched her friend closely. Finally, drawing a deep breath, she leaned toward her curiously: "You are so ... different today. What happened?"

The dreamy smile on Daala's lips should have prepared her for the answer, but, as it turned out, it was nothing she would ever have expected.

"Anakin came back."

"What?" Leia exclaimed, completely surprised. "How?"

The admiral grimaced slightly: "You remember when I told you that I had a dream? It was more sort of a vision. He was there, in a sense, but not really here. It is hard to explain." The happy smile suddenly blossoming on her lips made the Princess' heart leap higher. "But it was simply beautiful."

Leia felt her happiness dissolve in the icy water of her worries. She swallowed hard, then returned to her chair tiredly.

"But we do not know where he is, do we?"

"We do."

"What did he say?"

"He is still fighting."

Suddenly the door burst open and Leia jumped even more than Daala, for she had been so immersed in her own thoughts that she had not even felt her brother approach. A bad sign. He looked excited and completely undignified for a Jedi Master. And he was fairly beaming with joy.

"Luke, what happened?"

He nodded an acknowledgement at Daala first before he replied a bit breathlessly: "I felt him. Wherever he's been, he's back now."

"Who, Father? Can you contact him?"

"It is difficult, because his presence is very weak. But I will certainly try my best."

Leia could feel a sudden flash of anger from Daala, but it subsided immediately. Her brother gave the admiral a curious look, but he too understood that Daala simply did not want him to fail. He smiled a bit at the implicit threat.

"Do not worry," he told them both soothingly.

"I am not worrying," Daala huffed. "I just think that he has different plans than you."

"What do you mean?" Leia asked in bewilderment.

"It is just a feeling."

"What feeling?"

"The same you have too. He won't come back. He does not want to."

"Did he tell you?"

"In a way, yes."

Leia fell silent at that and she could see a thoughtful expression on Luke's face too. As each pondered the possibilities in silence for a while it was Luke again who broke it:

"Whatever he has planned, I am not going to let him fight alone. We have to find him, no matter what. Even if it's only for information."

The Princess was surprised at the harsh tone in his voice, but she understood that he was only trying to hide his fear. Nevertheless, she had talked to Mara too and the former Emperor's Hand had told her about the little talk she'd had with Luke on Father. And, in a way Leia felt that this whole affair was a lesson Anakin had unconsciously prepared for his children. One to teach them independence, maybe, and something else. Daala apparently had learned that lesson yesterday, but she herself sensed that it would be harder for her and her brother. Much harder. 

Daala's eyes flashed with a sudden fire: "He is being held on Ylesia and Loaz is the man you want. Time to make our move, don't you think?"

The next day Luke saw Kyp and Gantoris off at one of the landing platforms of the Imperial palace. The two Jedi had volunteered for the mission ahead and Luke was certain that part of why they had wanted to do this was the feeling that they had to prove themselves. Not in his eyes, but in those of his father. Anakin had been harsh on them on numerous occasions and the young Jedi Master remembered what the older man had told him back on Naboo. That Kyp and Gantoris needed a lesson in humility, a warning shot to keep them from setting the wrong limits for themselves. The reason for this caution was simple: both were very strong in the Force, but each had fallen to the Dark Side once already. Of course they had an example in Anakin Skywalker and his son, but Luke would rather not think about what the former Dark Lord was an example for. Maybe ruthlessness, manipulation and sometimes brute force, but also great sacrifices. Still, the Jedi Master did not want to make martyrs of the Jedi. He wanted them firmly entrenched in everyday life, as it had been customary in the Old Republic. And he wanted his father back. 

"Master Skywalker!"

Turning around Luke frowned at the approaching figure of Turve Glat.

"What can I do for you?"

The reporter glared at him accusingly: "You know that Jellan wants my head, don't you?"

"I could guess as much and as far as I know my sister has offered you protection."

"Yes, true. But I do not want that protection. I want my story."

"You already have a story, Mister Glat. That should be enough."

Shaking his head the man stepped closer, the look in his eyes one of hope and fear. 

"Maybe I have to make myself clearer. This conspiracy story is nothing without your father's input. I am talking about heroics, you know? This rescue mission will be absolutely astounding and I want to be there!"

"Mister Glat, I do not believe that your presence could be of any value to the mission."

"Please!" the reporter wailed.

But Luke could not just let him go and ruin Kyp's and Gantoris' assignment. He could feel the two men's annoyance already, even though they kept their expressions calm.

"No, I am afraid I cannot allow this."

Kyp heaved a tiny sigh.

"I see," Glat looked a bit disappointed as he lowered his head, staring at the polished floor. "Well. Good luck to you then. If I die here and now I know who to blame." Huffing an indignant breath he walked away slowly.

"And good riddance too," Kyp hissed between clenched teeth, prompting an easy laugh from Gantoris. The older Knight slapped his shoulder amiably and turned him toward the ship.

"Come on, kid. Let's go."

"May the Force be with you," Luke told them softly. 

"We will try our best," Kyp shot back, smiling.

"Don't _try_, Kyp. Just do."

"Now, let's do this again."

Jix raised his left arm obediently, although it was Loaz who was controlling his movements. Flexing the fingers of his hand he set his jaw grimly.

"Good, good," the doctor mused. "But I won't have to use this sort of control as long as you behave, right?"

He bent closer to the agent, his fingers brushing his left temple lightly.

"The ear-piece is secured and functional. Perfect. Say something," 

Loaz chuckled when Jix croaked a pained response. His vocal chords were completely numb. 

"I was just kidding anyway. Let's get over the mission again. Your first assignment is on Nar Shadaa. We have a contact there that you will eliminate. He is a Gotal and he does not know of his luck yet. One of my men will take you to the moon and drop you off. He'll be waiting for you and once you return we can make improvements, if any are needed. I want to make it absolutely clear that this mission depends entirely on your cooperation. Serve me well and you will not suffer. If not... Let's just say that the Dark Lord's fate is nothing compared to what will await you then."

Jix snorted in disgust. As if this was not bad enough. And besides, he had no idea if Vader was still alive or not. The desert being had fallen silent a while ago and it did not seem inclined to talk to him just yet. 

"This," the Anzat held a syringe to the Corellian's eyes, who mustered the clear liquid suspiciously, "is a poison I have developed some time back. It will cause you to fall into a coma in exactly five days from now."

Jix flinched inwardly when the needle struck his flesh, but he did not move.

"Just an insurance. When you come back I will inject you with the antidote. There."

The doctor patted Jix' shoulder soothingly, enraging the agent even more.

"We are ready to go. I will escort you to your transport. Ah, wait. I forgot—this."

Heaving the slick black helmet from its perch the Anzat struggled with his balance for a second before he let it slide over Jix' head. 

"I would not want you to get damaged. Come."

Following Loaz the Corellian felt ill at ease. He wore a tight-fitting body-suit with armor covering his shins and lower arms as well as his abdomen, chest and back. And he hated being confined like this. For once he could sympathize with Vader when he had still worn his heavy armor and helmet. How the man must have suffered. They walked the eerily silent corridors of the facility and Jix wondered fleetingly where the Dark Lord was right now. Had Loaz managed to coax him back into consciousness or had he finally managed to break free? For a second Jix envied him for his strength. If he had to spend the rest of his life as Loaz' puppet.... His hands clenched into angry fists involuntarily and the Anzat turned toward him with a slight smile on his lips.

"Relax. This is not so bad after all."

At that point Jix nearly had enough. But he was a survivor. And he would survive this too and he would manage to free himself once more. Somehow. 

Turve Glat strapped into the shuttle's passenger seat nervously, eyeing his fellow passengers on this flight to Nar Shadaa with some concern. If Jellan's henchmen already were on his trail... Shuddering inwardly he jumped when a stewardess leaned over to ask if everything was alright with him.

"I am fine!" he piped up, his voice unnaturally high. Harrumphing once, he gave the woman a tiny smile. "Really, I am alright."

But he had been lucky to evade them until now and his boss had other worries than hunting after him. The truth was out and there was no way back now for anyone. So why not let Turve get away? He was not that important, after all, was he? And anyway, he was bent on getting his story, no matter what. So, Skywalker though that he could treat an investigative reporter like a small child, did he? Well, he would show him! He would show them all!

Leia watched the sun set in a glorious haze of orange. She had managed to come home earlier today and it was good to be with her children at this dire time. Turve Glat had managed to turn the tide and she hoped with all her heart that he would get his prize, whatever its name was.

"Is he gone?" Han asked quietly, but she could see him smile without looking at him.

"Three NRI agents are keeping an eye on him. He has taken a flight to Nar Shadaa."

"That man is no fool," Han commented and she could hear him drop onto the bed.

Turning around Leia smiled at her husband proudly: "Not at all. Kyp and Gantoris will reach the moon before he does and that gives them a good lead. By the time he has caught scent of them they will already be on their way to Ylesia."

"Getting in there might not be that easy. It is Hutt space and they have kept out of the dealings between the New Republic and the Empire so far."

"I know," she sighed. "A good place for a hide-out."

"Definitely. You can't send troops in there, can you?"

"No. And Luke says this is a job for the Jedi anyway."

"He needs to be careful. If anything goes wrong they will get blamed for their independent actions again."

"Not if he can help it, and besides, as Gita always says, you can see everything both ways."

"Very true."

They kept silent for awhile. Finally she dropped down next to him, leaning her head against his shoulder. He started stroking her hair tenderly, but stopped when the comm started blaring downstairs. 

"Threepio can answer that," Han said when she moved to rise.

"It could be important."

Anakin was glowering at Loaz' back, his throat dry and swollen. Whatever drug they had tried out on him, it made his mind skid on ice. He could not gather one reasonable thought. So he had resorted to cultivating his anger, just waiting to lash out at the Anzat. But he knew very well that that was not the way. There was no need for violence, after all. They were fighting on a different level and apart from that, Anakin had no intention of giving Loaz the reaction he wanted. No blind rage, no senseless destruction. Be calm, he admonished himself, seeking the soothing sound of the wind caressing the dunes ever so gently, like waves running over a beach. But then two familiar voices broke through the peaceful vision, cutting at his numb senses with icy blades. Leia!

"Ah, Madam President. It is an honor to finally speak to you in person," Loaz said smoothly.

"Is it?" she answered coolly and Anakin could almost feel his chest swell with pride.

"Indeed. I hear that you are taking an interest in my experiments?"

"One in particular, I think. Firek Nab worked in your department, did she not? A few years before she joined the Court."

"That is true, yes."

"You know that she died a few days back?"

"I have heard of her sad demise, yes."

"She was killed by an Anzat."

"A somewhat macabre comment, Princess, don't you think? Are you suspecting me, perhaps?"

"How did you guess? Enough of your games. You know what I am talking about."

"I do not have the faintest idea."

Anakin's ears picked up a low hiss from Leia as she replied: "Be careful, Doctor Loaz. You are underestimating your opponent greatly if you think that you can ever defeat him."

"On the contrary, my dear. My enemies are beaten already whether they want to accept it or not."

"I strongly doubt that."

"Doubt all you want."

"Is that all you were calling for?"

"One last thing, and that just out of curiosity: what do you think your father is doing?"

"That rather depends on where he is now."

"And do you know where he is?"

Leia gave a short laugh. "All over the place, Loaz," she whispered. "And never where you think he might be."

Anakin could not help but smile inwardly when the Anzat sat back and stared at the suddenly blank screen. But he had to admit that the expression on the doctor's face was somewhat scary as he turned to face his prisoner.

"I wonder," Loaz growled finally. "I truly wonder what it will take to break you." Rising from his seat he took to slowly pacing the small room. "No drugs seem to work and I can hardly use any other means to subdue a Jedi. But," he turned to beam at Anakin, "I have done some research. There are two possibilities to cut off a Jedi from the Force. Still, that is not what I want either, is it? I want to prevent you from getting into another's mind, don't I? Your friend will test this for me."

Anakin's eyes widened in a wordless question.

"You have heard me correctly. My associates have warned me that the New Republic has uncovered our facility. How that is possible I do not know, but I think your daughter has pointed me toward the right direction there. Anyway. I am sure that your son will send a few Jedi to rescue you. If Jixton can stand against them..." Loaz smiled. "Too bad that you are paralyzed. Else I could pit you against each other once he's back."

Lifting the unfortunate Anzat off his feet Anakin smashed his prone body into the comm console with all the strength he could muster. Loaz bounced off the hard furniture and gasped in pain. But he recovered quickly. 

"Foolish, foolish. I wonder how long you had to work on building up that much energy? It doesn't matter. Fact is that you are weakened now. A weakness I intend to use against you."

Anakin closed his eyes in dismay. All of his control, gone in a heart-beat. He had to work harder on keeping himself in check. The Dark Side was not the way out, he knew that for certain. But it was so hard to hold on... Very suddenly his mind blanked out and his mouth formed a wordless scream when he realized that he had let himself be trapped. He was standing in a darkened cave, the setting suns sending their last golden rays through the advancing shadows. Staring at the wall before him Anakin felt his heart grow numb. He had made a bad mistake when he had stored part of himself away, leaving just a thin line to the world of the living. Now he had to decide very quickly which path to chose, life or death. _You have done enough_, a tiny voice told him, but he squashed it brutally, his competitiveness winning out. _He will not defeat me. Ever, _Anakin thought grimly and shook his head with determination.

"You are back," Loaz told him unnecessarily when he opened his eyes again. "I must admit that you had me worried there for a moment."

Jix spent the flight to Nar Shadaa mulling over his fate. Of course it was not the killing that appalled him, he was an assassin, after all, but the circumstances were somewhat different. It had been something else to get his orders from Vader than have them forced on him by this mad Anzat. Loaz was meaner than mean, crueler even than the Dark Lord, and that was truly an incredible feat. No, there was a great difference between those two and Jix was angry at himself for being so easily intimidated. He had to fight to get out of this and he had to battle the bleak despair threatening to overwhelm his mind yet again. But he had managed the last time too, hadn't he? 

The problem was, back then he had set all his hopes on the Dark Lord, trusting that the man could handle this easily once he had alerted him to this conspiracy. A false assumption, as it turned out. Jix wanted to kick himself for thinking this way, but it was true. Now they were both trapped, dependent on their enemies even. It was humiliating, very much so. And Loaz had not failed to make Jix feel this too. And what was that about this mission? Kill a Gotal and go back to Ylesia? Nah, there must be something else behind this and the agent hated having only half of the information available, or maybe even less than that. The only good thing about this mission was that he knew Nar Shadaa fairly well. Not that this could serve him in any way: as long as Loaz could control his nervous system he had no chance of escape.

The three-day trip wouldallow him to rest a bit, and he found that he really needed it. I must be getting old, he told himself. Not a very appealing thought. The pilot did not seem overly inclined to engage him in conversation, not that Jix cared about that. But the uncomfortable silence accompanying them throughout the entire voyage was getting to him a bit. He imagined his life like this, devoid of any inter-human relationships. As a tool, a weapon, nothing more. Vader had always respected him, he knew, and there had been _something_. Now though all that was left was the trust in efficiency that Loaz set in him and that he did not dare to disappoint. Jix hated himself for feeling this way, but all his instincts were screaming at him, begging him to let them survive. But what kind of life was this? Mere existence, without perspective and emotions. 

__

Do not despair, my friend.

The voice was a soft caress and the Corellian agent was completely unprepared for the desert being's sudden reappearance. He could see it, standing tall against the background of the desert, black cloak whipping in the wind. Wait. Since when had it worn black? Jix shook his head mentally, then took a step toward the being to see the smile on its strange face. Clear blue eyes were looking at him almost tenderly and he had never before felt so loved as in that moment. The being truly did care for him. Astounding.

"Where did you come from?" he thought at the appearance.

__

I am always with you.

"But in the past days you chose not to show yourself or talk to me?"

__

There was something else that needed doing.

"And what?"

__

A friend of yours needed some guidance.

"Vader?"

The being nodded.

"Him? I don't believe it! He always knows what he is doing!"

__

But sometimes that is not the right thing to do.

"Eh? Then he is alive?" The being did not answer. "He is dead?" Again only silence.

"And why are you here with me now?" Jix tried at last.

__

Because you too need guidance. Remember the last time someone else tried to control your feelings, your mind. Remember what you did back then.

"But my body does not obey me anymore..."

__

Jix, think about it. All he can do is react to your actions. Your mind and spirit are one with your worldly skin. He can only touch one or the other. That is your advantage. 

"I don't understand that!"

__

You will, my friend. Do not worry.

"Hey! Wait!"

But the image vanished as suddenly as it had appeared to him, leaving him stranded in darkness. How was he supposed to overcome Loaz' influence? He was no Jedi, for Force's sake! And not even Vader had managed to work around the chip. It _was_ hopeless, no matter how hard Jix tried to convince himself otherwise.

"Hey! We are here," the pilot shouted down the ship's intercom suddenly, snapping the agent out of his very private hell.

"Oh, good," Jix thought sourly and rose from his seat back in the passenger compartment.

They met at the landing ramp and the pilot gave him his directions before admonishing him to be back in at least two days. Nodding at the man the Corellian left without another word. But he was not left alone for long. A tiny crackling sound was his sole warning before Loaz' voice broke through the comm that was fastened to his left ear. 

"All is well, my friend. We will have to improve the range of the sensors though. We are getting a bit of interference, probably caused by the many frequencies used around the planet. It was better on the ship. Ah, calm down. You should get used to this."

Jix had no intention of calming down though. He was fuming inside, inventing a dozen different methods of most painful deaths he wanted the Anzat to go through one after the other, if possible. But the doctor's low chuckle told him that he was reading right through his emotions.

"I should tell you maybe that your friend is making progress. I have managed to cut him off from the Force and he is growing less defiant now. Soon we can start the next phase of the experiment. The one you are testing for me."

That stopped Jix cold.

"Do not worry," Loaz told him, and the fact that his words echoed those of the desert being did nothing to ease the agent's tension. "You may have to fight a few Jedi Knights. Nothing you can't handle. Don't stop, please. Really, if all is well they won't be able to read your mind and foresee your actions. So you see, there is nothing to worry about."

Nothing to worry about! Jix wanted to scream and tried not to feel too joyful. They might help him! They could try to override the chip or something, and in the worst case they could kill him and end this once and for all. Wait. Loaz had to know this too. And he would do anything to prevent harm from coming to his creation. Growling softly Jix stalked onward, his good mood gone as fast as it had come. Time to find that damn Gotal.

Turve Glat stood amidst a quickly dissipating sea of other newcomers in the great reception hall of the official space port of Nar Shadaa. What was he supposed to do now? He had to find the Jedi again, that much was clear, but how? Ambling forward a bit aimlessly he resorted to walking the same route he had taken with Jixton and the Dark Lord. Although he stopped short before entering the less pleasant places they had ventured into the last time. Instead he asked his way around to find the tiny tap café where he had met Kyp Durron and Gantoris on the same trip. It was just as dirty as he remembered. But what was more astounding than the lichen growing on the walls was the crowd suddenly gathering outside the dust-smeared window. Turve rose from his seat, leaving a sandwich behind that had seen nothing of his mouth and teeth yet and would probably stay that way. He walked to the door, his gaze fixed on the edges of the crowd. Whatever had happened, it had already attracted a few bad characters. One of them was a bulky man dressed all in black, with light armor covering his vital parts and arms. Even his head was covered by a thick helmet that reflected his surroundings. Following his reporter instincts Glat bore down on the man with no regard whatsoever to any danger the stranger might pose for him.

"Excuse me?" He was certain that the other had seen him coming, but his reaction surprised him. Grabbing Turve's arm he led him into a side corridor, deeper into the shadows. "What?" he exclaimed, startled, but the man shook his hand at him, trying to calm him down. "Eh?"

The stranger shrugged, but suddenly he convulsed and then his fist connected with Turve's chin, sending him flying against the next wall.

"Turve Glat?" Someone shouted half questioning, half scandalized. Turning his head around and holding his aching chin the reporter set his blurry eyes on two men wrapped in the stately garb of Jedi Knights. "I should have known," Gantoris said and shook his head. "Wherever there's a story you aren't far."

"What story?" Turve asked, confused.

"You mean you did not know that someone's been murdered over there? A Gotal, as far as we've been told."

"Really?" 

His ears perking up in interest he had almost forgotten about the other man, but when the stranger pushed past him he was a bit hard to overlook. Turve stared at him, trying to connect that predatory stalk to something in his memory. The two Jedi Knights

watched the man come toward them calmly and Gantoris moved in his way with a smile.

"And who might you be?"

Without warning the man's hand came up and stabbed at the Jedi with a lightning-quick move. A wet snapping sound rang throughout the narrow corridor and when the older Knight dropped to the floor in a boneless heap, Turve met Kyp Durron's shocked gaze over the black-clad man's shoulder. Immediately the younger man dropped into a fighting stance, a frown on his forehead. The snap-hiss of his lightsaber coming to life broke the eerie silence. 

"Who are you?"

Coming to slowly, Anakin battled his way past dark oblivion and finally broke the murky surface to consciousness. Noone was with him, surprisingly, but he knew that this could not last. Perhaps it had really been a mistake to come back. But there was one last lesson he wanted the Anzat to learn before he killed him. And he was really looking forward to doing both. His ears picked up a whooshing sound, signaling to him that the door had just opened. Too weakened to turn his head he waited for his visitor to make his presence known. It was Loaz who bent over him, setting a bowl of water down on the sterile white table next to the bed. Almost tenderly he started washing the Dark Lord's face with a surprisingly soft cloth and a faint smile appeared on his lips. Anakin endured this treatment with eyes closed, not wanting to see the satisfied expression on the Anzat's face. The past days had been excruciating for a creature as attuned to the Force as he was, but there was one thing the Anzat had not yet understood. The Force was with every living being. Holding his own life force bottled within himself Anakin knew that he could strike at the doctor whenever he pleased. And he would have no problem breaking through the energy shields that had severed the line he had thrown what seemed an eternity ago.

"Our friend Jixton has reached his destination. With any luck he has already encountered the Jedi. So you see, I cannot spend a lot of time with you right now. I have to be there, you understand?"

Anakin blinked his eyes very slowly in understanding. If Loaz got a chance to intervene when Jix met whoever Luke had sent to Ylesia, and knowing his son, the Dark Lord could make an educated guess, the Corellian would be forced to kill them. Or try to, at least. Kyp and Gantoris though were no ordinary Jedi, as none of Luke's students were. They had been taught not only to shield their own presence in the Force, but also how to battle an enemy they themselves could not sense. And both were very good. Anakin did not want them to get injured, but he most certainly did not want Jix to be killed. That had been the other reason for returning. He wanted the Corellian to survive. So, when the Anzat finally put the cloth back into the now nearly empty bowl Anakin forced a small smile on his lips.

"What is it now?"

Instead of an answer the Dark Lord reached out with the Force and took hold of the doctor's neck. The man had the gall to smile at him almost tenderly.

"Now, now. Not again. You know it won't last." Suddenly though his eyes flew open wide as realization dawned on him: "You should not be able to touch the Force in here," Loaz whispered, truly shocked. 

Oh yes, how very true. But I am, Anakin thought to himself and picked up one of the scalpels lying further away on one of the prep tables. Pushing the controls of the bed he let it bring his body into a vertical position so he could face the Anzat properly. The scalpel's blade was a sliver of shimmering silver between them. By now Loaz was close to panicking. And when the slender knife started coming at him he screamed in absolute terror.

"Loaz," Anakin whispered, forcing his vocal apparatus to cooperate with his mind.

"Listen to me ... only ... when you are ready ... to give up life can you ... regain it. Do you understand ... what I mean? Like a ... young tree that ... bends with the wind instead ... of trying to fight it. This .... way it will rise again ... once the wind has died down. In fact,... this is also the essence ... of being a Jedi. You may bend ... but you will never ... break. Do ... you ... understand?"

The Anzat tried to nod, but by then the scalpel was moving up his face, drawing a red line across his left cheek. 

"Now ... are you ... willing to give up ... life to ... fight me? For I am ... the Force, Loaz. 

I am life ... and death. You cannot ... ever break me."

"You are no more than a great mind trapped in a weakened shell, Lord Vader. Your tricks will not help you," the Anzat hissed, half in fury and half in pain when the knife gently moved around his neck.

"No ... There is no death ... there is the Force ... and you are ... part of it ... as am I."

"You are dead."

Anakin smiled at his nemesis, a cold smile that sent a jolt through the Anzat, opening his eyes even wider as he understood what was at stake here. With a low growl he jerked his head back and the Dark Lord released him instantly, before the man could break his own neck. He did not want Loaz to die. Not yet. The doctor stormed out of the room, intent only on stopping the experiment before it could get out of hand. Anakin watched him go, all the while listening to the wind blowing softly through the sterile room, and let it lull him into a peaceful trance that led him into the shimmering heat of the midday suns. Memories. The images danced past his inner eye, making him dizzy with their startling display of color and emotion, of smells and sounds. Laughing quietly he dived deeper into their warm embrace, into his own mind, leaving the world behind easily. It was up to Jix now, and he knew that the Corellian would manage just fine.

He had not wanted to kill the Jedi. It must have been part of the chip's subconscious programming. But now Jix had no other chance than to fight the other one too before that one could get him. They were dancing now, both falling into battle moves that were surprisingly similar to each other. The Jedi had understood fairly soon that there was no way he could read the other's mind and his blue eyes had turned into pits of ice in concentration. Turve Glat had fallen silent, fortunately, but Jix was almost certain that this could not last.

"Jixton! Now I know it! You are Wrenga Jixton!" the reporter crowed suddenly, and really had the impertinence to bustle up to the two fighters completely unconcernedly. To him they apparently were old friends, no deadly enemies. The man was an idiot. Durron reacted immediately, pinning the fat man against the wall and holding him there for a while until Glat got the hint. Increasing the intensity of his attacks he let Jix advance suddenly, then broke his stride just as fast, leaving him stuck in the air, unable to move. Jix was jerking helplessly and he had the uncomfortable feeling that his brain was close to experiencing an overload. Loaz was screaming into the commlink deafeningly, but without success. The agent forced a small smile on his back when Kyp Durron reached up and freed him of the helmet. They looked at each other, blue eyes meeting blue ones. Stroking the Corellian's neck gently the Jedi frowned, and before Jix knew it a sharp pain ripped through his teeth and face when he did something to his vocal chords.

"Hold still," Durron admonished him gently and brought the blade of his lightsaber up to seal the wound again. "Sorry, it's a bit messy," he said ruefully and frowned again. "So?"

"The chip, can you override it?"

"A chip?"

"In here," Tapping his head, Jix felt so excited that he could barely hold still. He could talk again! Now, if he could only get the control over his body back...

"I can't do anything that would not kill you, Mister Jixton."

The Corellian froze. The Dark Lord had told him the same, hadn't he? He should have known. "Really nothing?"

Shaking his head the Jedi suddenly leaned forward in interest. "Where is Lord Skywalker?"

"Back on Ylesia."

"Really? I can feel him very close, actually. For a moment I even thought that his presence was lingering in your mind."

"What the hell is he doing now?" Jix screamed, frustrated, and felt his anger arch through his head, making his blood boil with fury.

Anakin could hear Loaz' frantic voice in his mind, as the doctor ordered his aides to prevent the control system from crashing, but there was really nothing they could do. Keeping a hold on the Anzat's mind he fed confusion and despair into the other, a Dark Side practice, but he did not really care anymore. This was no time for precaution, after all. Wrecking the system would deactivate the chip inside Jix' brain and render it neutral. Of course Loaz would know who to blame. Still, he had come back only for this, and perhaps a bit out of selfishness. He wanted the Anzat to realize that he was not what he thought himself to be: he was not unassailable, not all-knowing and certainly not all-powerful. There were limits and his limit was Anakin Skywalker. Loaz might believe that he was trapped inside his body, but in reality it was the other way round. By now his body had become an extension of the Force, a tool, nothing more. And the doctor would learn the truth too late. 

As expected it did not take Loaz long to storm back into the barren room, his face fixed in a furious snarl. Anakin did not give him any chance and flung him against the closing door brutally. Holding him there he kept his steady gaze fixed on the Anzat, pushing ever so slowly through his mind, intent on making the other feel this intrusion too. 

"Go...away..." he said finally and even though his voice was very low the menace in its cold tone was unmistakable, and Loaz found himself complying without any protest. He would not come back, Anakin knew. Not here, that was. This room had been turned from prison to fortress and anyone trying to break through its defenses would suffer the same fate as the Anzat.

TBC


	9. Journey's End

Chapter 9

Luke Skywalker, Jedi Master, had a heavy burden to carry these days. And he found that it did not get any easier when Kyp Durron called him, the young Jedi's face dark and his eyes haunted. 

"Kyp, any news?"

"Bad news, Master Skywalker. Gantoris is dead."

Closing his eyes Luke confirmed the missing presence of the older Knight and his heart filled with deepest regret. "What happened?"

"He was killed on Nar Shadaa by Wrenga Jixton."

"No!"

"It is true. I am with him right now. He has been implanted with some sort of chip. It seems that Gita Deron was right about that. I will spare you the details, but fact is that this technology is very dangerous for the Jedi."

"In what way?"

"That chip allows others to control the victim's nervous system and additionally it convolutes his mind in a way that makes it impossible for a Jedi to trace his thoughts and intentions. That was what cost Gantoris his life."

"What about my father?"

"I am not sure if he is still alive. Jixton claims that he should be, but from what he has told me so far there is little chance of saving him. I am sorry."

Luke hesitated a bit but he saw the understanding in Kyp's blue eyes even before he asked him: "Would you be willing to try despite the odds of failure?"

"Yes, of course."

"It will be very dangerous. Can you trust Jixton?"

"The chip has been deactivated somehow. I suppose it is worth a try and my chances are better if he is with me. He knows the facility and he is quite eager to get at his captors."

"Don't let him get too eager, Kyp. What about Gantoris?"

"I have deposited his body on the ship for now." Biting his lower lip Kyp shook his head, trying to hide the tears rimming his eyes. "I will miss him," he added in a whisper.

"All of us will, Kyp. This is a sad day for us. You must be strong now, do you realize that?"

"Yes, master. I understand. And I will do my best to succeed in this mission."

"Thank you. And may the Force be with you. Return safely."

As the connection broke Luke walked on numb legs over to sit on the sofa. Dropping into its soft embrace he sighed deeply. Gantoris dead ... He had been one of his very first students, along with Kyp, and they had been such a great team together. The older Jedi had kept the headstrong Kyp Durron in check, more reasonable at times than the kid from Kessel, but sometimes also far too daring. Once again Luke remembered his father's predictions concerning those two and he wondered if he had ever realized that it would turn out like this. And if the Force had somehow brought Kyp and Jixton together for a purpose. He shuddered at the implications, but in a way he had accepted the truth already. Kyp had not been sure if they could get to Ylesia in time to save Father and even though Luke very much wished for them to succeed he sensed that the younger man had kept something hidden. 

Turning around to face the Corellian agent Kyp Durron hung his shoulders tiredly. But Jix could see determination return to his eyes quickly, a light that he had last seen in the Dark Lord's gaze, and one he had come to fear. It almost always meant trouble.

"We are going in?"

"Yes. But I must ask you again, despite the injuries and the damage to his brain he is still alive? Are you certain?"

"Come on, Durron. You know him almost as well as I do. He never gives up."

"Yes, but if he's dead..."

"He is not dead!" Jix almost shouted, and it was astounding how the mere thought of Vader dying could inflame his mind with such fury. "And besides, I don't want to fall in a coma," he added a bit more calmly. The Jedi Knight nodded, then started walking out of the cockpit to the ship's rec room where Turve Glat was waiting for them. 

The reporter was typing furiously into his portable datapad, abusing the keyboard with the new information Jix had given him. His round face was red with concentration and he was so completely immersed in writing his report that he nearly jumped when Kyp sat down beside him.

"Mister Glat, I must ask you to leave this next part of the mission to us. We will gladly fill you in on the details once we are back." If we come back at all, Jix added silently to himself and he could see in Glat's eyes that he was thinking the same. But when he opened his mouth to protest Durron's eyes turned into icy pits of blue. "Not another word, Mister Glat. Do not follow us. This is your last warning."

Clamping his mouth shut the reporter simply nodded, then packed up his belongings and left very quickly.

"He won't heed your words, you know?" Jix told the Jedi coolly.

"If he doesn't I won't care. I did all I could short of tying him up or something more painful. Come on. We need to come up with a plan as we go. They will be expecting us anyway."

The flight was spent mostly in silence, and Jix was trying to regain some of his confidence, but found that his mind was still riding high on adrenaline. Kyp Durron was meditating a lot and Jix understood that he saw this mission as his sole responsibility. But he was far too young to carry this burden alone, the Corellian mused. Luke Skywalker undoubtedly had seen that too, else he would not have paired the youngster with this Gantoris in the first place. Although sometimes it had appeared as if the younger Jedi had been the more reasonable one. He was glad that Kyp had forgiven him for killing his friend, even though the deed itself was still nagging at his conscious. It had not been his choice, true, but he _had_ carried it out nevertheless. And now they were on their way to get the Dark Lord out of trouble. It seemed ridiculous, somehow, but Jix could feel his anxiety increase with each passing hour. If they could not get to Ylesia in time... He was almost sure that it had been Vader's doing that had deactivated the chipand Loaz would make his prisoner pay for that dearly, if he could. 

Gita strode into the President's office a bit absent-mindedly and straightened her glasses before she looked up. And stopped short at the grim faces greeting her. Luke Skywalker was sitting in one of the visitor chair, his hands folded in his lap, but it was clear that he was tense. And his sister looked as if she had not slept in days. Gita did not understand this. After all they were making good progress. Propping her hands on her hips she gave them a long look.

"And what is it with you two?"

They shared a pained glance.

"Your father?"

They nodded.

"And?"

"Kyp Durron called," the Jedi Master began. "And Gantoris was killed. By Jixton."

"What? He is on Nar Shadaa? Then your father..."

"Kyp said that he might be dead."

"But you said you could feel him again!"

"Not anymore."

She sighed: "I am sorry."

The Princess shot a hard glance at her brother before looking at Gita again. "There is a chance that he is not as dead as we think he might be. So let us not despair too early."

"Oh, I won't despair before I don't see his body," Gita shot back coolly. "My apologies. That was tactless. Forget I said anything."

"We will try," Leia growled. "Any good news?"

"Yes, actually. Jellan Aste Fellon had some interesting things to say. So, even if the mission to Ylesia goes wrong we will have enough to nail them down."

"What? Why did you not tell us earlier? I will try to contact Kyp immediately and call them back." The President seemed really upset, but the incredulous look she earned from her brother was most entertaining to see. Folding her arms in front of her chest, Gita raised her eyebrows meaningfully: 

"Then you are going to abandon him?"

"Well, no, of course not," Leia sighed. "But he knew what he was getting himself into and usually he gets out of those messes on his own. It is too dangerous for Kyp."

"Have faith," the Jedi Master told her quietly.

"Is there something you have not been telling me?" she asked back, slightly bewildered.

"Yes, actually. You know as well as I do what Daala and Father have told us over and over again. He won't come back. Leia, if alive or not, he needs to be free at last. Do you understand that?" She nodded quietly, but tears were lingering in the corners of her eyes. "Leia, I believe that the Force has made preparations to replace the void he will leave behind. Gantoris is dead and at first I was highly concerned for our all safety. Imagine Kyp without guidance! He is not as experienced and not half as wise as Father. There is a lot he has to learn, but I have taught him all that I can already. Sending him to Ylesia now is a test and if he fails... I shall be regretting his death as I regret Gantoris'. Why are you looking at me like that?"

A tiny smile flashed across her beautiful face before she answered: "You sound like Father, do you know that?"

"I guess I do. But my destiny is not his."

"And Kyp's is?"

"We shall see, won't we?"

"You think that he will team up with Jixton, am I right?"

"Well, at least that's what I hope."

Leaning toward him across the desk she squeezed his hand gently: "I hope that your wish will come true. And mine too."

And Gita found that she had to agree with all her heart. 

He was walking the empty corridors soundlessly, a mere shadow among shadows. In the distance Loaz' rage was a sweet antidote to his own pain. But he was about to leave all this behind, once he had made sure that everyone was safe. Everyone he cared for, that was. It had been hard for him to calm down again after the last outburst and finding peace once more became more difficult the longer he stayed suspended between the worlds, incomplete and restless. Therefore he was not really surprised when the bleak corridor turned into the great gorge of Beggar's Canyon, the smooth brown walls rising high into the blue sky, the ground underneath his feet dry and cool from the everlasting shadows. No sunlight ever reached the bottom of this particular section of the canyon, since it was too narrow and the walls too steep for that. Dropping down to the ground Anakin simply sat there, resting his head against the rock and closed his eyes tiredly. He remembered being here before, not only during reckless races when he had been a boy, but also later, as a grown man and Jedi Knight. Padmé had accompanied him once and she had been delighted by the refreshing cold in the midst of the unrelenting desert heat. 

He longed for her now, fearing the accusations of his children and their families at being left once more. But she would have understood. She would have let him go just as Daala had. The twins had to realize that he had stayed far longer than he should have, only to be with them, that he had fought for their love as much as for their safety and future, despite still being in search of his own way and his own self. He had found the way now and all he could do was to walk it to the end and hope to find what he had been looking for all his life. Freedom. And happiness. In his mind one equaled the other and there was no difference at all. For a moment he doubted his own sanity for having come back at all. But he had been torn then, starving for love and safety, a lost soul desperately searching for redemption. He had realized that for him redemption was not the way out, on the contrary; to embrace his guilt and to make it one with his self was the key to fulfillment. It was a mind-blowing revelation and for sentient beings, so used to rules and morals, it seemed despicable even. And yet it was the truth. 

A sudden commotion brought his attention back to the present. He opened his eyes to see Jix stalk down the hallway steadily, his blue eyes narrowed in concentration. Right behind came Kyp Durron. The young Jedi Knight was bristling with determination and Anakin almost smiled at the look on his young face. How they had managed to come in here without being detected was beyond the Dark Lord, but the eerie silence permeating the facility could only mean that no alarms had been sounded. Which was of course not the same as the intruders not having been spotted. They had to be very careful. When suddenly Kyp looked straight at the older Jedi, clearly seeing him even though he was no more than a whisper, a presence roaming the hallways far from his body, Anakin froze. Leaning toward Jix the young man whispered something in the agent's ear, who nodded and then took off alone.

"Lord Skywalker?" Kyp tried timidly.

"Come to me," was all the Dark Lord said before retreating again.

Back in his own body he took in the bland furniture of the room and sighed deeply. They were here to rescue him, he knew, and it was hard for him having to disappoint the two men the way he had to. The door slid open only a few moments later to reveal the young Jedi's slim form. He hesitated before entering, and Anakin could easily see in his gaze what was troubling him so. Eyes wide in shock Kyp stood there rooted in place, the desert wind wrapping him in its hot embrace, tiny grains of sand caressing his cheeks roughly and there, just between him and his quarry the desert being stood watch over the Dark Lord's prone form. Shaking his head in disbelief Kyp still could not tear his gaze from the being's tall frame and Anakin saw understanding suddenly blossom in his blue eyes, replaced immediately by a certain amount of fear. Fear of failure. He knew that look well from the scared faces of subordinates, from himself even. Although then there had been much more anger mixed into the fear. 

"You are dying," Kyp whispered, his voice sounding pitifully small.

Anakin did not reply at first. But when he spoke, haltingly, there was a strength in his tone that he hoped would soothe the younger man: "There is ... no death, Kyp. Do ... not fear for ... me. You have a ... lot to learn ... but... I want you to ... take good care ... of Jix. He ... needs you. As ... you need him."

"I understand, I think. What do you want us to do?"

"Find ... Loaz. Have him de ... activate the facility."

"And leave you here?"

"I am ... not here anymore ... In a sense ... I have left a ... long time ago."

Nodding slowly Kyp walked over to grasp his right hand and squeezed hard. "You know that I do not like you much, but I find that I was merely envious that you survived, despite what you did. Now I understand that it did not matter. You are what you are and the way you are is the right one."

"Do not ... tread that way lightly, Kyp."

"No, never. And I do not doubt that Jix will help keep me on track."

"Yes. Now ... go."

"Your children?"

"They ... know ..."

"May the Force be with you, Lord Skywalker."

"It ... is. All the ... time."

They shared a small smile and then Kyp was off again. Anakin leaned his head back, a little bit tired by the exchange, and took a deep breath. Now it was up to the Corellian and the Jedi Knight to prevent a disaster. He did not doubt that legally Leia could nail them down now, but they could still wreack havoc with the immense network that could be controlled form Ylesia. It was a huge task that he had given Kyp, but the young man would grow through it. And in the end Anakin's legacy would continue in more than just one way. 

Jix stepped into the laboratory cautiously, his ears perking up and his skin crawling with anticipation. He had to find the antidote fast. And try to stay out of Loaz' grasp. The Corellian had been the slightest bit surprised that getting into the facility had been so easy again. Maybe the staff was already gone or as good as, knowing that they could not get away anyway. He remembered a mission from eight years ago, where he had single-handedly wiped out an Imperial garrison. But this time it would be far more difficult. On the other hand he had a nice back-up in Kyp Durron and the boy had already proven that he could fight, if need be. A sudden sound from behind made his heart leap into his throat. Whirling around he just barely managed to prevent himself from shooting Kyp. 

"Did you find it?" the Jedi asked at the same time Jix inquired: "Did you find him?"

They both stopped, slightly confused. 

"What?

"Who?"

"Vader. Did you find him?" Jix snapped, slightly annoyed.

"Yes. He says we should go get Loaz and force him to power down the station."

"And leave him here? That s so typical of the man! No way. He never knows what is best for him." Pushing past Kyp Jix found the other's right arm clamp around his arm.

"Stay here. We need the antidote first."

"But-"

"No but, Jix." Kyp's eyes narrowed into cold pits of blue ice, testimony to his impatience and the tension he felt.

"Alright. Then help me. We had to do this fast in any case."

Finding the small tube filled with a pale green liquid took some time though, and Kyp needed a few moments to familiarize himself with the syringe before he could inject the antidote into Jix' bloodstream. He let the Force guide him here and the Corellian felt a tiny bit uncomfortable about that. But he found that he simply had to trust the man. Once finished they immediately made their way into the heart of the facility, where they found another surprise waiting for them.

"Turve Glat," Jix growled when he spotted the fat reporter stalking the hallway just up front. Jogging over to the man he dragged him back to where Kyp was standing watch.

"What are you doing here? As I recall we explicitly forbade you to follow us! Are you suicidal or what?"

"No more than you," Glat huffed indignantly and jerked his arm free of Jix' grasp. "I told you I want that story and I will get it. Where is Vader anyway?"

Just then a squad of heavily armed guards stormed around the corner, howling in delight at seeing their quarry this close and that the trio had apparently been caught by surprise.

"I knew this could not last!" Jix snorted, but Kyp was already a step ahead of him.

"Mister Glat, I want you to get Skywalker. Jix will give you the directions." Igniting his lightsaber he positioned himself in front of the other two men, grimly awaiting the attacking soldiers. "Now!"

"Alright. Now listen here-" Jix began and quickly filled Glat in on the Dark Lord's whereabouts.

"Are you alright?"

Anakin stared at the short reporter who seemed to be drenched in sweat and soot. Without waiting for an answer Turve reached up to loosen the bonds that held the Sith's ankles, hips, wrists and elbows shackled to the vertical platform. "Durron and Jixton are busy with hunting down whoever is guarding this facility and they sent me to find you," the reporter wheezed. And Anakin had no way of warning the man before he dropped forward, fully expecting to crash to the floor. But to his surprise Glat caught him quickly, staggering a bit under his weight. 

"My stars, what did they do to you? How am I supposed to get you out of here like this?"

Anakin hissed laboriously, fighting hard for control over himself.

"What?"

"Jix," he managed finally. "Where?"

"You mean I should get him?"

Anakin nodded very slowly, for his head felt as if it might fall off at any moment. 

"Right. Stay here, don't move." Glat laughed hysterically. "Not that I think you could, but... Back in no time, you'll see."

Lying on the floor Anakin let the darkness close in, confident that the arrival of Jix and the reporter would wake him from his stupor again. He was frankly quite angry at Kyp for defying his orders that way. But too late for complaints. When what seemed an eternity had passed and they still had not turned up he began to wonder. Finally though he could hear Jix' voice, angry and full of tension.

"Do you know when he will be here with us?"

"Soon, I hope," Turve answered.

"Yeah, you and me both, brother. Gads, look at him."

The only indicator that served Anakin to realize that Jix was picking him up was that his eyes were suddenly level with Turve's groin. He still could not feel anything. And he had no illusions that he ever would again. But maybe... He had managed to say something, true, but it had drained his strength at an alarming rate. 

"This way," Turve said and then they were moving. Anakin closed his eyes.

Dragging his heavy burden along, Wrenga Jixton bit his lower lip hard. Vader was no more than a deadweight in his arms, but he would most certainly not leave him behind, even if he slowed them down. The sound of blaster fire ebbing away in the distance told him that Kyp was alright on his own, and for once he was very grateful for the young Jedi's stubborn single-mindedness. If they could reach him in time they might get out of this alive after all. But it would not take Loaz and his minions long to find out that they were gone, and then he would be all on his own, since Jix was fairly certain that Turve would be of no help in a fight.

"Over here," the reporter told him.

"Ventilation system. I see. Your idea?"

The reporter blushed. "Yeah, I thought..."

"You thought: if it works for holo-dramas it will work for me too, right?"

The other man gave him a relieved smile: "Exactly."

"Listen, is there any way you can contact the New Republic? If they don't get in here soon those guys will destroy all evidence and then we'll have a hard time nailing them down."

"How much time?"

"Two hours at the most."

Turve shook his head: "No way. Sorry."

"Then Durron is our only hope."

"He ... won't ... make it."

Jix looked down to stare at Vader's tense expression. The Sith had his eyes pressed close tightly and from the look on his face Jix was not sure if he had really heard him say those words. Gently depositing the Dark Lord against the rounded shaft wall he crouched down next to him. 

"What do you mean?"

"No ... time. Have to ... do this ... now."

"How?"

"Control room. Fuse ... wires, no electronic signals can ... get through."

"But you said that that might end in a disaster."

"We have...no other choice. Get... me in there. Leave."

Looking at the other's face the Corellian could see the truth in his cold blue eyes. They had come here to accomplish a mission and now they had to bring it to an end. Making up his mind, Jix bent over the other man, taking his left hand in a hard grip: 

"We can do this, but only together."

Anakin closed his eyes for a moment, but he looked ready to scream. For a long time he did not answer and neither the Corellian nor the reporter dared to disturb his thoughts. 

"Together," the Jedi whispered at last, letting Jixton help him up. 

Turve stared at them out of eyes red from the smoke and heat. "I am coming with you," he said finally, swallowing hard. Twin pairs of icy blue mirrors were drilling into his head.

"Now you listen here-"Jix began, but Skywalker, leaning heavily on the Corellian, lay a hand on the other's arm very slowly, silencing him:

"There is...nothing you... can... do to help us. Just... get out of here. You know everything you need to know, don't you?" He nodded slowly. "And besides, you will have a hard time ... surviving anyway when ... you make this public."

"I - I can't just leave you here."

"But... you will. Now go," the Jedi told him harshly, his forehead furrowing in an angry frown.

Turve ran then, despair clutching his heart, listening to his own footsteps echoing away into the distance, as he fought the steam trying to obscure his vision. They were going to die, he just knew it. And they did too. Jix had told him what had happened and if he had not seen it with his own eyes he never would have believed it, simply because he refused to acknowledge the fact that evil of that kind still existed. For a time he had truly believed that the last of that kind would die with the Dark Lord. But apparently he had been wrong. And Turve had to admit to himself that he had never ever met someone like those two before. 

As uncompromising, ruthless and cruel as they were, there was no way he could close his eyes to what they were doing relentlessly. _Well, you wanted a story and now you've got one._ He ran on blindly, trying to get rid of that last picture that had etched itself into his memory and that he knew would haunt him forever. Two warriors, beaten already, but willing to risk everything once more to let him get away, a seedy reporter who had not cared what he wrote about as long as it was news. "Forgive me," he whispered and tried to run even faster.

"Now that he's gone," Jix began, "I have to tell you that you are mad."

"You told me twice ... on the way here already ... and didn't care about him hearing it."

"But this time I mean it."

"Really ... Come on." The Dark Lord sighed. "We have lost too much time as it is ... No need to lose any more."

"Before we get ourselves killed, let me ask you this one thing: you don't, by any chance, have some trick up your sleeve?"

"Don't ... I always?"

"Ah, good. You almost had me worried there."

The way back was long and tedious, and with the Dark Lord's control almost gone Jix had to support him, his left arm wrapped around the taller man's waist to steady him, while Vader had his right arm draped over the Corellian's shoulders. The tension filling Jix' mind became almost overwhelming and he wanted nothing more than to get out of here again. Going back into the control room was suicide in his eyes. Still, he could not simply leave Vader all alone. The Dark Lord would never make it on his own. The arrogance of the man to even propose anything like that! After all they were in this together. 

The control room was deserted and Jix frowned at the deadly silence permeating the huge chamber. Something was wrong. Definitely. He deposited Vader at one of the main control boards and took to examining their surroundings more closely. There was no trace of anyone anywhere. But that could not last. Jix wandered back toward Vader, keeping his eyes on the galleries above. The look the Dark Lord gave him was one of total confusion.

"Are you alright?"

"I can't ... remember," Vader whispered.

"What?"

"I...cannot visualize... the mechanics."

"No! Damn." Jix frowned deeply. "Let me try." 

Pushing the other man aside he suddenly found his left wrist caught in the Sith's iron grip.

"Stand back."

"Let go," Jix hissed, but when he saw the cold strength in Vader's eyes he subsided. 

Apparently he had regained some control over his mind. The agent stepped back cautiously, waiting in a safer distance. Whatever the Dark Lord was up to, Jix was almost certain that he was going to employ the Force to enhance his control. Leaning his forehead against the blinking screen Vader closed his eyes, breathing evenly. It was fascinating, in a strange way, to see that transformation from the crippled, weakened man the Dark Lord been just a few moments ago to the calm and composed warrior Jix could see emerge from that frail shell. Vader started trembling ever so slightly, and for a second Jix considered interfering with whatever trance he was in. But then a sudden movement behind him brought his head around. His face contorted in a silent snarl, Jix tried to warn the other man, but too late. As darkness closed in around him he was left with only a wordless curse.

It took a supreme effort to keep his mind focused, but Anakin threw all caution over board. With his memories nearly gone he could not really remember how hate felt, or anger, but he did not have to. Throughout the facility he could sense confusion, fear and anger aplenty. It was this generous reservoir he drew upon deeply, sucking up the dark vortex of emotions and channeling it through the maze of his own mind into the machinery. For an endless moment he could virtually see the connections and what they would do, could assess the damage that would result from whatever he did, and in the end he made his decision. Not only because he could feel an alien presence stalk closer ever so slowly. Loaz. A sudden flash of fury told him that Jix had become aware of the threat too, but the Corellian really had no chance. His extended usefulness though would save his life, Anakin knew. 

Still, he had to remain focused. At the edge of his awareness Kyp was a sharp blade of deadly intent, moving through the hidden fortress purposefully. He would never make it in time. And he had to keep concentrated. Anakin was only dimly aware of Loaz coming up to him, but he did not stir. He had told Jix that he had something planned, and the Anzat was in for a nasty surprise. With a final effort Anakin pushed the dark power forward, letting it race along cables and conduits, wreacking havoc with the complicated machinery of this facility. The sudden backdraft of power was unexpected though and threw him back with brute force. What had happened? He was given no chance to think about that further. Loaz had hooked his hands over Anakin's ears and temples, clasping his head tightly and drew him back in a forceful embrace. Anakin lost what little balance he'd had and crashed to the floor. He could see his death in the Anzat's dark eyes. Smiling at the doctor he managed an almost imperceptible nod, an open invitation and provocation at the same time. And the other took the bait immediately. 

Loaz let go of his head and grabbed his wrists, pushing his arms down brutally. Once again Anakin felt the alien's proboscii slide into his head, their touch freezing him instantly. He closed his eyes, the smile still on his lips, and touched Loaz' mind ever so slightly. Composing himself Anakin wandered along the line he had thrown after the Anzat's first attack and dragged the alien along. That one had no chance of escape, never had had any hope of getting out of his grasp. For Loaz had forgotten one thing: the deadly bond worked both ways, you just had to know where to strike and hold on to. 

He could feel the alien's desperate struggle, but soon he had left Loaz behind; drifting in darkness he imagined the desert, an endless sea of silver in the light of the moon. The stars were few that night, but the sky was so clear that he was sure he could see beyond them easily, his gaze travelling further into the void as he took the first step towards eternity.

Coming to again Jix took in the scene with a groan, but then he threw himself at Loaz with a snarl, and punched a fist in the Anzat's head with all the strength he could muster. The alien's lifeless body toppled over and the sudden silence broke Jix out of his blind rage instantly. Heaving a deep sigh Jix stood up slowly and shook himself, trying to gather his wits. But then his gaze fell on the Sith's still form lying at his feet on his back, arms spread out at his sides, blue eyes calmly staring up at the ceiling and beyond, his lips parted slightly. Jix moaned softly and dropped down next to him, running his hands over the other's chest and neck in a vain attempt to feel the Dark Lord's pulse or heart-beat. There was nothing. "You can't be dead," Jix announced with conviction, but the truth shattered his resolve quickly. Silent tears began streaming down his face, as he scolded himself for having been too much of a coward to break the spell earlier, that he had let Loaz intimidate him so. 

"You can't be dead," he began anew. "And you know why? You are a Jedi. Jedi don't die. Come on. You have been through this before." He started shaking Vader's shoulders violently. "Don't leave me now!" he all but screamed, and suddenly his mind was alive with fear, the fear that he would die here alone, having failed in his mission and having failed to protect the Dark Lord. It seemed ridiculous to even consider that the man needed any protection, but Jix had come to see him in another way over the past weeks. Anakin Skywalker needed very much to be protected from himself, from working himself to exhaustion and from going beyond his limits. And now he was dead. Because Jix had failed. "I am sorry," he whispered, his voice breaking. Reaching out to draw a hand over the other's face he closed the Sith's eyes gently. Then, hugging his knees to his chest he curled up next to the Dark Lord's body, too tired to move and too resigned to go on at all. They had lost and all he could hope for now was that Kyp and Turve Glat would get all this to the Jedi and the New Republic in time.

The darkness was everywhere around, wherever he turned to look. He knew instinctively that there should be more, but he did not know what it was. As if he had lost something important on his way here. But what? Why was it so dark anyway? And how did he know that it was dark at all? It was more a feeling, that oppressive silence filling him to bursting, leaving no room for anything else. There was definitely something amiss. If only he could recall what it was. _Father?_ It was a tentative call, and at first he was not sure what it meant. In fact it took him quite a while to realize that it was him who had been called. Noone else. The word had no meaning he could think of, but when the call was repeated he began to remember. 

A young woman with dark brown eyes, always so earnest, but with the most beautiful smile she chose to hide most of the time. And a young man, the complete opposite of her, who never hid his feelings. His son and daughter. His children. Slowly he became aware of more things around him, filling the silence one by one. The soft sound of sand dancing in the wind, no more than a whisper. In the distance, the lonely call of a bantha standing watch over its mates. 

It was cold that night, like any night in the desert. But as he stepped into the open he relished the touch of the icy air on his face. Time stood still, freezing the stars and trapping their ancient light for his eyes only. All of a sudden he remembered his son asking him if he was more afraid of the way or of what he would find at the end of the journey. And then he smiled when he realized that what he had found was himself. Raising his head high he stood facing the horizon, one with the desert, one with the sky.

"I have been expecting you," a voice said softly by his side.

Turning his head he gave the desert being a long look and a smile. Blue eyes met blue ones across eternity, the beginning and the end, together at last. He did not look back when he followed his guide into the desert, for there was nothing of the past that could hold him anymore, and the future was not born yet. Still, just like the past it was nothing but memories, memories he shared with everyone and everything that was part of the Force.

Leia had managed to get the children to sleep at last and now Han was keeping watch over them. She had not even needed to ask him for it and again she was surprised by his deep understanding of her needs. Still, the Anzat's words were still haunting her. Something was happening to her father, that was for sure. And it was nothing good. He had tried too hard to soothe her back when he had appeared to her and the children, and the look on his face had betrayed something she had never seen there before: fear. What could frighten him so? What could be so horrible to scare someone like her father? Calm. She needed to be calm. Closing her eyes the Princess opened herself to the Force, just like her brother had taught her. But only a few seconds later her mouth opened in a silent scream. Throwing herself off the bed she had been sitting on Leia tried to fight that ocean of despair crashing down over her head, threatening to drown her. Part of her seemed to be slipping away, leaving her stranded in a sea of darkness. No! It could not be... 

Han found her an hour later and he did not say a word. He simply knelt down next to her, wrapping her in his arms, holding her close. She was hugging herself fiercely, feeling as if there was nothing else she could hold on to. Her father was gone, she was certain of it. How much she had hoped that her premonition was only a figment of her imagination, a natural reaction to everything that had happened over the past weeks. But no, it was true. And he had known that he would die. He had known. Her heart was aching terribly as she tried to imagine what it meant for her. That he would not be there for her anymore, and even though she had even wished for some independence she had not meant it to happen like this. Never. She had not wanted him to die, for heaven's sake! Not ever. "Father...," she whispered, her voice choked with tears. 

Sitting cross-legged on the floor Luke Skywalker was meditating. The Force was a vast sea, with myriads of beings making it glow in the dark. It was a beautiful sight, he found, one he would never tire of. It was soothing, in a way, to look into that clear void, and calmness was what he needed badly at this time. He was worried, very much so. And still, he knew very well that there was nothing he could do. Nothing at all. It started with a tremble, causing tiny ripples in the ocean of Life. Trying to find the source of this disturbance Luke let his mind drift further. But all of a sudden he found himself in a powerful maelstrom of pure Force energy, like nothing he had ever felt before. What could have caused this? Or rather, who? Luke froze when he realized that there was only one answer to his question. The one he did not want to hear. 

His mind turned blank at first, but once he had managed to regain his composure he started searching for his father in the depths of his own mind. There was nothing, no trail he could follow, nothing pointing the way for him. It was as if Anakin had simply vanished. Swallowing hard the young Jedi Master rose on shaky legs. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe he was just hiding his presence. But then he remembered the disturbance again and it took no genius to draw the connections there. Shaking his head, disbelieving, Luke felt silent tears stream down his cheeks, but they could not come close to easing the sense of loss that held his mind shackled to his body tightly, depriving him of any escape. His father was gone. Forever. 

Skidding into the darkened room after Kyp Durron Turve Glat came to a halt abruptly when he crashed into the Jedi Knight, who did not even seem to feel the impact. Edging around the taller man's back Turve stared at the scene frozen before his eyes. He had been wondering why the Jedi had suddenly ceased his battle and led him here at high speed, face grim and worried. Well, this answered that question. Wrenga Jixton was sitting on the floor, his knees hugged to his chest, blue eyes staring straight ahead out of a face bereft of emotion. Their arrival did not seem to faze him at all. When Kyp Durron walked towards him cautiously though the Corellian turned his head ever so slightly, and the look in his eyes only confirmed what they had already been suspecting. Simultaneously the two newcomers dropped down next to the Dark Lord's still form, unable to speak, each caught up in their own thoughts.

"We have to leave," Kyp said finally, his voice hard. "There is nothing we can do anyway. Jixton?" 

The man did not react at first, only stared at them blankly. Kyp bent over him with some concern, but when he reached out to touch his forehead the Corellian's blue eyes flashed suddenly with unmistakable anger. 

"Why did you not come earlier?" he hissed.

"There was no way..."

"Why? He was always there for anyone who needed his help. But when it was him who needed it..." he stopped his tirade with a low hiss and rose abruptly. "You are right. There is nothing we can do except avenge his death by unveiling those who have caused all this. And you, Mister Glat, will help me."

"We will all help," Kyp explained soothingly. "I think we have another cryo box on board," he added, frowning at the Dark Lord's body. "Let's get out of here."

The arrival on Coruscant was the end of a very quiet voyage. Noone had felt much like talking and none of the men was very enthusiastic about what would await them on the capital world. They had dutifully informed the New Republic of what had happened on Ylesia, but it was clear that the government would need time to act properly. Time they did not have. Still, Kyp and Turve were confident that the President had already taken the necessary steps, and to Jix it was astounding to see how they assumed that the Princess would act like her father would have. Maybe it was just the fact that he had seen Vader as the only one with that much foresight, and his own general disdain for politicians or any sort of authority had done the rest. 

To see Vader in anything but in control had been very frightening and what had scared the Corellian most was the fact that he was mourning the Dark Lord as he would a friend. He had never had many of those, at any time of his life. But he and the Sith had been a real team. Loaz had been right about that. It was true, Vader had given Jix' otherwise empty life a new purpose, with something he could always come back to, something that posed enough of a danger to keep Jix interested in keeping that employment as the Dark Lord's assassin. There had been a mutual understanding, a respect for each other, that had served as the subtle substitute for a friendship that the circumstances had not allowed for. It was a shame really. And now it was too late to change anything. 

Jix followed the reporter and the Jedi Knightslowly, the cryo box floating between them on a set of repulsors. He could not take his eyes off the sterile looking white rectangle, and he knew instinctively that the Dark Lord would have resisted anything like this vehemently, refusing his body to be locked up like that. He could see that too in the eyes of his children. The Princess and the Jedi Master were waiting for them on the landing pad. Both looked as if they had been crying and Jix could understand their grief well. When Turve Glat tried to slip away quietly Jix caught the man's sleeve with a lightning move, holding him tight. Hanging his head Glat did not meet anyone's eye. Theoretically Jix knew that it had not been the reporter's fault, but then, on another level, he was certain that it was. It was just a feeling, but it was enough. 

"Kyp," Luke Skywalker intoned solemnly. "Welcome home." Turning towards the Corellian agent his blue eyes flickered with uncertainty: "Wrenga Jixton? Thank you for what you ... did." 

The slight hesitation at the end of the sentence made Jix flinch inwardly. It let the whole thanks sound like a hidden accusation, and the fact that it made him feel so guilty only drove the shame for his failure deeper. 

"We are truly grateful for what you did, Mister Jixton," the Princess was quick to tell him, laying a hand on his shoulder. "We know that you could not have done more. Father was much too stubborn for thinking anything else."

He laughed at that, it was so true. "He did not even want me to come along on that last trip," he admitted finally. 

The sudden smile on her face could not wipe the sadness from her eyes. Nodding at Jix slightly she took a tentative step toward the cryo box and Kyp Durron was quick to work the lock for her. Jix turned away at once, moving farther away. He had seen Vader die and he did not need to look at him now to remember. For a while he stood at the edge of the platform, looking out over the vast skyline of Coruscant. It was a moment of complete solitude and he had never felt so alone, ever. When he heard someone come up to him he turned around slowly to face the slim figure of Luke Skywalker. 

"I think you might have misunderstood. I do not blame you for his death, not at all."

"Well, maybe I am just blaming myself," he answered all too lightly.

The Jedi Master's eyes were unfathomable and cold for a long time, but in the end they softened again: "Do not make that mistake I did back at Endor. You could not have changed it or else you would have."

"True wisdom. You sound like your father."

"Should I be worried then?"

Jix shook his head, grimacing in disdain: "Only if you decide to take up his bad habits too."

The look the other man gave him was frightening and Jix almost took a step back, remembering just in time that there was only the endless drop waiting for him there. He shot a glance over his shoulder, getting dizzy from merely looking down into the gorge between the high structures of Coruscant. Suddenly he found Skywalker's hands grabbing the front of his shirt, pulling him away from the edge almost brutally. The Jedi Master's blue eyes were blazing with sudden understanding.

"Thirty days!" he shouted.

"What?"

"Thirty days since the conviction, don't you see? He kept his promise!" Laughing almost hysterically Skywalker let go of him again.

Jix froze: "What are you getting at?"

"Nothing." The Jedi gave him a boyish grin. But then his face turned solemn once more. "It is just... He kept his promise and he came back on time. Always in control of events."

His voice grew hesitant. "I think I understand now...what he meant...about limits and always growing."

"He is dead."

When Skywalker looked at him again Jix almost gasped in shock. There was so much of his father in the man's features and stance, and above all in his words:

"When you have accomplished all that you can on one plane of existence then you might consider moving on to the next. There is no death, there is the Force, Jix."

"You know, hearing you say that almost has me believing it too."

"We'll work on that belief some more then," the Jedi Master told him amiably and patted his shoulder. "Come. There is a lot to do."

It was a very quiet assembly in the Jedi Academy's open courtyard. The body of Anakin Skywalker had been arranged on a bier in the middle of the yard, with his hands crossed over his heart. Dressed in his usual black uniform the Dark Lord was the perfect picture of serenity. Luke had heard it said often that the dead looked peaceful, as if in sleep, but noone looked like that when asleep. It was as if Anakin had decided to give even his death some style, to not let his body out of his control even though his mind was gone. The young Jedi Master shuddered inwardly. Jix had told them about the Anzat's attacks on his father's mind and Luke found the mere thought of losing oneself like that horrible. What was left of one's personality once all feelings and memories vanished in a vortex of nothingness? Would the soul survive? He shook his head vehemently. Now was not the time for such broodings. It was time to say good-bye.

Stepping forward, Luke knelt down next to the bier, leaning his forehead against the cool stone wearily. But what to say? They had shared so much over the past on a much deeper level than mere words could convey. And still he felt that he had not known his father well enough, even though his heart told him that the love he felt for Anakin should suffice to ease his pain. But his mind was not satisfied with that. He wanted answers, answers to questions he had never been able to ask his father, stories he had not told him, secrets even. Now though it was too late for that. But Luke realized that he could only come to understand his father by learning himself what Anakin had tried to teach him. How to be one with the Force, as his father was now. Rising again Luke bowed deeply to the Dark Lord, for it was that gesture that he thought could express his gratitude most. For having been taught a lesson that would take him a life-time to make his own. 

When it was Leia's turn she hesitated a bit before walking up to the body laid out on the bier. He seemed so tense, as if not even death had been able to break his resilience. And she could believe that easily. She smiled a bit at the irony of it all. Here she was, mourning her father, even though she knew perfectly well that millions of beings were cheering his demise. And rightfully so. It was a long way yet to go and even with the help of both Turve Glat and Gita Deron they would have a hard time uncovering the whole truth. But she had taken up her father's fight willingly. In a way Leia did see herself as his heir, on a different level than Luke. As a politician instead of a Jedi Knight. 

But they both would serve as guardians of what Anakin had sought to protect. That she had promised herself and her father. What had helped her most in this time of grieving had been the unfaltering support of her family. Han had been a shoulder to cry on as well as the one who had brought her out of her frequent depressions over and over again. Her children had brought joy to her by simply being there and loving her with all their heart. Love was the key. She had heard that so often. But never had it seemed so true. A poem came to mind and she recited the one line she remembered most vividly over and over again in her mind, like a mantra she hoped would protect her father wherever he was now: _Even if I were banished to the darkest place, my love would never let me be a lonely spirit._ Leia wished, for her father's sake, that love would lead the way for him too.

Nodding slowly at the Skywalker twins, Daala took a deep breath and let it out again in a sigh. She closed the distance rapidly and lay a hand over both of his, bending over Anakin's still form to kiss his cold lips and forehead. Her tears fell gently on his pale face, and for a moment it looked as if Anakin were crying too. "I love you," she whispered softly, her voice choked with grief. She had hoped so much for him to come back safely. After all, he had always emerged victorious from any battle, hadn't he? But maybe, in a way, he had won this war too. Daala did not pretend to understand the Force and what it had meant to him, if it was burden or blessing. What she did know though was that Anakin had not been himself for a long time and it had hurt him a lot. He had not been able to live with the fact that there was no way back for him, and perhaps she should be happy that he could finally rest, without his guilt and his sense of duty constantly nagging at the back of his mind and dragging him down. No, he was at peace now. 

"All under Heaven will be yours to command. Forever," she said, drawing away. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The last time I saw you  
My eyes were red from constant crying  
Blue moon was at my door  
You read my hand and told it all  
Romantics go to heaven  
To heaven or to war  
  


We said too much too soon  
I bled and let you  
Pacify my wounded pride  


The last time I saw you alone  
You shielded me from strangers  
And saved me from the Lord  
And in my dreams I still have you  
You're still my sweet compadre  
I your El Grand Senor  


Copyright _Steve Harley_


	10. All under Heaven

Epilogue

"...funeral was the very least the New Republic could do to honor this warrior's sacrifice. This is Turve Glat reporting for Coruscant Daily. Thank you for your attention."

The image died abruptly, plunging the room in nearly total darkness. For a long time there was only silence and then the rustle of cloth as someone rose slowly. The night was chilly outside, but then, it could also have been called refreshing, after a day of murderous summer heat under the twin suns of Tatooine. She leaned against the window-frame, too tired to sleep, and after a while she decided to take a midnight stroll through the sleeping town of Mos Espa. Dressing quickly Daala felt her heart-beat fasten ever so slightly in dire anticipation. The streets were almost deserted at this time of the night, but she found that she was not in the least afraid for herself. Never had been from the very moment she had set foot on this planet. At the edge of the settlement the dunes began sloping toward the heart of the desert and Daala had vowed to herself that she would rent a speeder someday and visit all the places Anakin had told her about: Beggar's Canyon, the Dune Sea, and all the others. 

"A dangerous endeavor."

The soft voice startled her and her eyes fixed the hooded stranger in a suspicious glare. His tall body was wrapped in a black cloak that was moving gently in the chilly breeze. Daala froze. She remembered him! Taking a step back the former Admiral shook her head slowly.

"I am not afraid of you," she told him firmly.

"I don't see why you should."

"I know what you are." She could almost see him smile and the pasty-white skin around his dead eyes crinkle in fake amusement at her defiant tone. 

"Death is as much part of life as anything else, Daala. There is nothing to fear here for you." Drawing back the hood he shook his head as if freeing himself of an invisible bond. Daala gasped in surprise.

"Anakin!"

"I told you I would always be with you."

"But....But...you are—"

"Dead?" he finished for her. He came up to wrap her in his arms, his lips touching hers gently in a very tender kiss. "Do I feel dead to you?"

"No," she mumbled in between kissing him back.

"Good. Because I would hate seeing you cry again."

"Are you real?" she asked finally, her voice trembling with fear and hope.

"As real as you want me to be," he whispered. And then he kissed her again. 

Waking up from her dream Daala sat bolt upright and stared at the holoproj droning on in its corner, the images too fast for her tired eyes to grasp. Finally she realized that she must have fallen asleep during the report, but maybe that had been a good thing too. She could still taste his lips on hers, could still sense his hands holding her tight.Smiling a bit she wrapped her arms around herself to recapture the feel of his warm body against hers. He had promised her to always be there, hadn't he? And he was, in a sense. Even though she would have wished to have him at her side, not just a very vivid memory and the ghost of his smile, Daala was aware that they had agreed to this a long time ago, and she was content in the knowledge that he had found his peace. There was sadness too, of course, but it did not hurt so much anymore, as he had known it would when he had come to say goodbye that last night. Anakin did keep his promises, even if in a different way than one might wish. It was a little bit cruel, Daala found, but in that too he had remained true to himself. She would remember him, that was for sure, everything he was, and in her dreams she would still have him at her side, as real as she wanted to. 

He made a grab for the remote control, but Kyp was faster. Grinning at him roguishly, the young Jedi turned back to look at the screen where the Princess could be seen giving yet another interview. As if they had not heard all of it already. For Force's sake, they had been _there_! Sulking quietly, Jix folded his arms in front of his chest and leaned back against the headrest of the worn down couch in his apartment. He had invited Kyp over because he felt that he owed the kid, not only because he had killed his partner. But right now he was regretting his decision. The young man had made himself right at home. On the other hand his unnerving presence was keeping Jix' guilty conscious at bay and the memories faded a bit. Luke Skywalker had told him that he should take some rest and heal first, before he did anything rash. The Jedi Master had not said the last part but Jix had known what he had meant. He was not stupid, after all. Somehow Skywalker seemed to be happy at his taking care of Kyp, and the Corellian also had a good idea of why that was so. But Durron would never be able to replace Vader, no way, no matter how hard he might try. And he would most certainly not spend the rest of his life baby-sitting the young Jedi either. 

"There's been some rumors, have you heard?" Kyp said suddenly, his gaze still fixed on the screen.

"No, what?" Jix grated at him, slightly annoyed.

"Tatooine. Looks like someone's bent on rebuilding Jabba's empire."

"Really. What's the New Republic doing about it?"

"Not much. In fact, they have other things to do than take care of that too."

"The NRI has enough people, I guess."

"Takes someone special."

"So?"

"We _are_ someone special, you know?"

"And what does your master have to say to all that?"

"He said: why don't you check it out? Take Jix with you, he needs something to get his mind off the past."

"He said that? Really?"

"Hm-hm."

Looking over at the young Jedi, Jix could not help but notice the merry twinkle in his cool blue eyes. He was caught, mind and soul. And he knew just who to blame too. _Damn you, Vader, you always had a knack for making my life miserable_. But in the end he was smiling too. Rising gracefully he walked over to stand at the window, looking out into the night.

"Might be worth a trip."

"Gentlebeings, thank you for your attention during this special report brought to you by Coruscant Daily. For his immense efforts in uncovering this conspiracy and bringing it to public attention, Turve Glat was awarded not only with the Tahnera Reporter Prize, but also with the now vacant seat left behind by Jellan Aste Fellon of the J.A.F. MediaGroup, who was convicted and sentenced to life imprisonment two days ago for his part in the said happenings. 

Gita Deron has risen from chief investigator to chief prosecutor and there are rumors that she will run for the post of Chief Justice in the elections to come. President Organa Solo is confident in her protégé's chances, and she should know!

Former Admiral Daala has reportedly left Coruscant, destination unknown. 

As for the Skywalker family: we have tried to get a comment on most recent talk from Jedi Master Luke Skywalker, but he has gallantly refused to answer the question whether his future wife, former Emperor's Hand Mara Jade, is really pregnant. We are impatiently awaiting progress reports on that particular piece of information. The President herself has taken a well-deserved rest and will return from her holidays with her husband and children in ten standard days from now.

There is no news on the whereabouts of Wrenga Jixton, a fact that we for one regret very much. We would have loved to have him here for an interview. Last but not least, dear gentlebeings, the MediaGroup is proud to announce that it will be producing a full-length holodrama on the events surrounding the heroic death of Anakin Skywalker, former Dark Lord of the Sith and guardian of the new Jedi Order. May the Force be with him, wherever he is now. Thank you for your interest."

Finis

Acknowledgements:

To George Lucas for giving us this galaxy far, far away.

To my sister for her medical input even though she thinks I'm insane.

To my beta, Red, for always being there for me with her ideas and superior insight into English grammar. This story would not have been half as good without her. J

To Ang Lee for the awesome movie Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, that served as a great inspiration for this story. I even borrowed a line from James Shamus. Don't worry. I am not trying to copyright it. J

Thank you.


End file.
